


Starlight

by angela311



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-06-25 13:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 48,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15641616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angela311/pseuds/angela311
Summary: A year after the Battle of the Five Armies a group of rangers make an astounding discovery in the desolate fortress of Angmar. What do they find? Does everyone accept this? What is going on in Dale and what has taken place in the Kingdom of Mirkwood? This is a sequel to J.R.R.Tolkein's The Hobbit which, apart from original characters, involves men, elves, dwarves and our favourite wizard.





	1. Prologue

“In the Wide World the Wood Elves lingered in the twilight of our Sun and Moon, but loved best the Stars”

 

PROLOGUE

She could hear them approaching. The horrifying cries and shrieks of the orcs filled the air and the terror stricken riders as they tried to escape a certain death in the hands of these horrid creatures. She knew that twenty elves would be no match for the number following their trail. The horses were frightened and they were being driven further away from the forest. Away from home…and they could not turn back.

She hugged the tiny bundle she was carrying in one arm tighter and, gritting her teeth, held on to the reins of the horse for dear life, urging it on whilst shouting to the others not to give up hope, that good will prevail in the end and that help will eventually come.

“Where are you, my love? We need you now!” were her thoughts as she fiercely led the group of elves through the borders of the forest and out into the open plain and barren lands.The ice cold wind pierced the skin on their faces like tiny shards of glass and this jolted them to the reality that they were no longer under the protection of the forest. She stopped the horse from its gallop just to get an idea of the surroundings and the direction she must take.

“Not all is lost my brave soldiers yet we have to go north if we want to stand a chance. We are surrounded but surrendering to this evil is not a choice!” she shouted, her blue grey eyes glittering with courage and resolution. The elves shouted in unison as they admired her strength in such a forbidding situation.

She was a sight to behold. Blond braided hair flapping wildly around her face in the wind… she was holding that precious bundle so delicately with shoulders and hands that could kill mercilessly a dozen orcs in the blink of an eye. She was a born leader and right now they would follow her to the ends of Middle-earth.

There was no time to waste. They had to move on for dear life. The sky became darker, the path more ominous as they approached the forbidden kingdom of Angmar. They could already distinguish the dark towers rising in the distance and their hearts filled with a terrible sense of impending doom.

Feeling this, she turned her face round fiercely and shouted, “We will never surrender to this filth!” through gritted teeth. This gave the brave soldiers the courage they needed to overcome any doubts and instil in them an admirable boldness in such a dire situation.

She stopped the horse once again at a fork in the road. One way led to that cursed place while the other, a much narrower path, turned east. Her brow was furrowed in deep and agonising thoughts that seemed to rip her inner soul in two. Finally she spoke, addressing one of the soldiers.

“Drauchir, the horses are too worn out and those beasts are far too many and too close on our tracks to get rid of them. If we all go on this path, it will not take long before they catch up with us.” She looked at the bundle and removed a piece of cloth that was covering his tiny face. Two clear blue and innocent eyes looked back at her and he smiled. A scene so beautiful yet terribly excruciating to witness. The love she felt then was boundless, she would do anything to protect her child from harm. With one last kiss she delicately handed him over to the soldier.

“Take him Drauchir,” she whispered, “and protect him with your life.” The soldier was shaken. He wanted to stay and help but he knew that she was right. This was the right thing to do. He moved forwards and took the little babe in his arms. “I will my Lady,” he said with a slight tremble in his voice, “Fear not. I will!”

As he was turning the horse and ready to gallop away she stopped him. “Wait!” She looked straight into the soldier’s eyes, “Just tell him I loved him more than anyone…more than life…Now go!” she ordered and the soldier nodded his head and galloped fast down the narrow path. It was at this point that she started whispering a barely audible elvish spell to aid the rider and his protégé until the orcs’ cries jolted them back to reality and the danger they were in.

With her now free hand she took out her sword leaving the soldiers once again in awe as they looked into her eyes full of determination, courage and immeasurable anger. “My elves!” she shouted, “Are you ready to follow me and tear apart all the orcs that dare cross our path?”

The captain moved forward, “Till the end my Lady!”

Turning her horse towards the mountain she shouted “To Gundabad then!” And the group disappeared through the gates.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 was included to give an idea to the reader, ideally after watching The Hobbit movies and reading the book, where the original characters fit in the storyline. I didn’t change anything, just weaved round the story written by J.R.R. Tolkien and directed by P. Jackson, and took it from there. This is in fact the only chapter which overlaps the movies. As from chapter 3 the story is mine, my imagination put into words :) One can consider this story as a kind of sequel to where the films left off, taking place about a year later. Also, as you well know, Tolkien’s characters are diverse and many. Because of this, in this story I chose to follow Bard, Gandalf and the elves in particular. Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 2

 

Hamar couldn’t move. He was terrified to say the least. Arahad had had quite some foolish ideas in his life but this one beat them all.

“You are out of your mind I tell you! This place could still be swarming with orcs for all we know!” And he glanced in the distance at the dark buildings with its imposing towers that made up the forbidding kingdom of Angmar. The group of four men were hidden from sight behind some rocks although it felt as if it didn’t make much difference for, apart from a dozen crows nesting and flying round the tall towers of the ominous building, the place seemed deserted. The foul creatures had all left to meet their fate at the Battle of the Five Armies, a battle which shall be remembered for a long time. 

Many a courageous soul had died there. The men reminisced about the days that led to the battle. By strange coincidence and destiny or fate, call it what you may, all four of them had taken part in it…

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

They weren’t citizens of Lake Town to begin with. They were travellers, nomads, some people called them rangers. They had no home and no family. They were brothers, moving from place to place making friends among dwarves, elves and men…one of them being Bard the Bowman hailing from Lake Town. After not meeting for some years, their paths crossed again months ago, when they decided to visit their friend once again. Yet their return to that forlorn and filthy town was not quite what they had expected.

It was a cold and starry night when they arrived and stepped on the quay. Lake Town hadn’t changed since they were there last. The run down shacks and houses with broken windows, unsteady roofs and overall filth and deterioration was very much the same. What struck them most was the smell of fish and lake water that pervaded the air. 

“Ah! What a nice, welcoming place!” chuckled Odell as he stepped on one of the paths that joined the houses together and was the only means of moving around. But Arahad stopped him.

“Hush! All is not what it seems I’m afraid!” he said, wearing a worried expression whilst surveying the surroundings, “There’s something amiss my friends.” They looked at him, evidently puzzled. Everything was quiet, it was quite late in fact. “I think it would be better if we go to Bard’s house as quickly as possible. We shall not wait for tomorrow.”

Hamar, Odell and Tor were used to Arahad acting like this and they didn’t ask questions for most of the time their friend was right in his assumptions and decisions. If going to Bard’s place now instead of tomorrow morning could put his mind at rest, then so be it!

But the four of them didn’t have time to take another step forward. They heard it. Loud and clear and it shocked them right out of their skin. The dragon’s horrifying roar sent shivers down their spine as beads of sweat appeared on their foreheads. Turning round and facing the lonely mountain they stood there, rooted to the spot, as they saw Smaug heading towards Lake Town. They couldn’t believe their own eyes. It was a chilling and terrible sight to witness. Every shriek of that creature was blood-curdling and they couldn’t help but gasp in horror before suddenly realising that they were in its direct path.

“Jump!” shouted Arahad and just as all of them dived into the icy cold waters of the lake, the dragon breathed fire all over the quay and surrounding paths, rendering everything into ashes. Odell was the first out of the water and the others followed suit, looking desperately for a boat which could help them survive their plight. They found one which had miraculously survived unscathed and climbed on it. By now, shrieks and cries for help filled the air and the four men, speechless at first, soon started helping the panic stricken townspeople as best they could.

It was terrible. The destruction brought about by Smaug was unimaginable. Lake Town, which had been standing defiantly for so many years in the face of adversity, was wiped down in an instant. The horror of standing there defenceless and powerless was overbearingly suffocating for the four men who had been in innumerable fights and brawls and had always had the upper hand. But not that day. They couldn’t do anything against such a terrible creature and the sight of what it had done, the countless blank faces and charred bodies lying around them, filled their hearts with deep sorrow, anger and resentment.

Then they saw him. Bard. Right on top of the bell tower. “There’s someone with him,” shouted Tor, “but I don’t know who…and what is he doing up there, right in Smaug’s path?”

Arahad turned round, not believing what he was seeing. Then his eyes opened wide, incredulous. “That’s his son, Bain!” he whispered but loud enough for the others to hear. “What on Middle-earth is that fool trying to do?”

They stared at the bell tower knowing full well that they could be witnessing the death of their friend but they couldn’t look away. Amazed they realised that Bard was using his own son to help him shoot a black arrow, the only weapon that could kill the dragon. “If there’s one man who could do this, that is Bard!” said Hamar. No sooner had these words left his mouth, then the dragon lunged in attack.

Time seemed to stop. The seconds seemed to lengthen, their senses were heightened as everything around them moved at a slower pace. Bard let go of the arrow which pierced the dragon on its left side. The men looked astounded as they saw the evil creature crash into the bell tower, flapping his wings in vain, as life left him and he fell over Lake Town to be engulfed in the murky waters underneath.

Odell and Tor were shouting with joy, Hamar was wiping a tear running involuntarily down his cheek and Arahad grinned broadly with pride at his friend’s incredible act of courage. He had seen him and Bain jump just before the dragon hit the tower in full force.

It was the following morning that they decided not to leave anytime soon. The people of Lake Town needed all the help that they could possibly get and they were certainly not going to turn their backs to those in need. When Arahad looked up from helping some people out of the water, he saw his friend Bard talking to a man with long blond hair. However, as he approached them, he realised that it was, in fact, an elf.

Arahad stopped in his tracks. He didn’t trust elves. Some people were mesmerised by what one may call unearthly beings. They were practically spellbound by their grace and beauty. Others were in awe of their fighting skills, swiftness and agility. Arahad found them arrogant. The way they spoke most of the time showed without any reservations the superiority they felt towards men. The few elves he had met in his life acted thus and this one was going to be no exception. His overall air and gaze showed this as clear as crystal and Arahad felt himself clenching his fists in annoyance. What was he saying to his friend?

Just at that moment the elf nodded and strode away. Bard turned round and saw Arahad walking towards him. He stood open mouthed at seeing his friend grinning widely at him. Speechless, he hugged him.

“My friend. My brother,” was all he could utter. Then, “Where are the others?”

“They’re around here somewhere,” replied Arahad, “but tell me Bard, who was that elf you were talking to? It looked as if he had important things to impart with you.”

“That was Prince Legolas, King Thranduil’s son and yes, he truly had some significant news for us. Now that Smaug is no more, we all fear that all sorts of evil creatures will come for the immense treasure hoard in the lonely mountain.”

“What are you going to do then?”

Bard’s face was grim as he glanced at the despairing townspeople around him. “Well, my friend, I think that there is only one thing to do for now. Winter is approaching and we cannot stay here, unprotected on these shores. We must take what we can and head towards Dale. Then we shall see from there.” He turned to look again at Arahad. “And you? What will you do?”

Arahad grinned, put his hand on Bard’s shoulder and said, “I will follow you, my brother!”

It was thus that Arahad, Hamar, Odell and Tor got involved in the Battle of the Five Armies, where they killed countless orcs in their fight for good against the evil forces of the Necromancer. It was also from there, months later, that Arahad came up with his foolish idea.


	3. Chapter 3

They were still debating what to do next when the four brothers in arms heard the terrible sound of what seemed to be some kind of huge horn. A wave of fear ran through them as they lay transfixed behind the big boulders just outside the great gates leading to Gundabad. They expected an army of orcs swarming out of the massive doors or maybe a legion of the same foul creatures returning from pillaging villages and towns elsewhere. If that was the case, it would be difficult for them to go by unnoticed for long. If they were caught, it was certain death in the hands of these vile beings and Hamar was cursing the very second that he had agreed to follow his friend in this dangerous venture. 

But no orc came. This gave them courage to look over the boulders and check what might be going on at the black gates. What they saw weren’t orcs but they were nonetheless foul and disgusting to behold. They had seen creatures like these during the battle. They were spawns of some kind. Big, misshapen and ugly, brainless things which the orcs used in their battles to crash against obstacles such as walls or gates and also to throw giant rocks at their enemies. For, although void of any brain, the creatures were manipulated by the orcs and made to do their bidding.

Most probably these six creatures were left there to protect Angmar in some way while the orcs left for battle and eventually meeting their fate.

“See? What did I tell you?” Arahad stated. “No orcs in sight! The Kingdom of Angmar has its gates wide open, waiting for us to go in and explore what’s inside its walls. Nothing to fear. Come my friends!”

“Wait!” it was Tor’s turn to hold back his reckless companion this time round. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there are about half a dozen ugly beings there, waiting for us with open arms.”

Hamar chuckled at Tor’s choice of words. He knew that it would be practically impossible for them to go past those beasts and sneak ‘safely’, if one could use that word considering where they were, inside Gundabad.

“There are six of them and we are but four men. What do you suggest? That we deal with one each while a couple wait idly by? Come on, admit it Arahad, this idea is too foolhardy, even by your standards!”

“And for what?” continued Tor, “There is nothing in that horrendous place! Its scum was burnt before the gates of Erebor, leaving this filthy, desolate and empty shell. What could they have left behind? Nothing! And that brings us to the reason of why we are all here in the first place.”

This made Arahad turn round fiercely facing the three of them. “I don’t know. I’m not sure…but there is something in there I tell you! I can feel it in my bones and there is one thing I am certain of… I am not going to leave this forsaken place before I get a good look inside those walls, with or without you!” He said these words with such determination and will power, that the other three could not help but be convinced and follow him in this venture, as reckless as it may seem.

It was Hamar’s turn to look over the boulder. “Maybe that is why they left these creatures! They want to protect something that is inside and these blind mutants are there to instil fear in anyone who might stray close to these parts….or any fool who might come on his own accord..” he added, shooting a sideways glance at Arahad.

All eyes turned to Hamar. “What have you just said?” whispered Arahad excitedly.

“That we are fools to come here on our own accord?” replied Hamar, still observing the brainless things that let out horrible growls every time they bumped into each other.

“No, you twit, before that. Did you say ‘blind’?” urged Arahad.

“Yes, but…hey!” Arahad didn’t give him time to finish the sentence. He shoved Hamar to one side so that he could take a better look at them. He was grinning from ear to ear when he turned round to face them. It was difficult not to be influenced when he looked at them with glimmering eyes filled with promise of excitement and adventure.

“Well, it seems that our job here has just become what one may call as easy as pie? A piece of cake?”

“Shut up with all this talk about food, won’t you? I’m famished and I could devour a whole bull right now!” cut him off Odell. “All this travelling and waiting has made me hungry. So, what’s your idea? What do you propose to do now?”

“Well, we could go over there, see? That’s the lowest point in the wall. Then we could try to sneak behind them and in through the entrance. If they notice our presence, it shouldn’t be too difficult to do away with them now that we know that they are blind!”

This seemed to convince them more or less and they started following Arahad down the rocky slope until they halted in front of the part of the wall that he had been talking about. It was easy for them to climb over and they found themselves on the other side in no time.

“We’re in!” shouted Hamar.

The beasts might have been blind but they certainly weren’t deaf. His voice made all six of them turn round and let out a long, horrible, high-pitched wail before heading in the men’s direction. What ensued was total havoc. The men had their backs to one side of the mountain and they certainly had no time to climb back the way they had come. The only way out was to run straight towards the ugly creatures.

Brandishing their swords, the four men let out a shout in unison as they rushed to meet them. The fight didn’t last long. The creatures held chains in their gigantic hands to which huge rocks were attached and which they used to swing around in an attempt to maim or kill whatever lay in their path. 

But there was no one to control their movements. During the battle the men had noticed orcs that sat on them showing them the direction where they had to go and attack. With no orc to guide them, the slow, sluggish but giant beasts didn’t know where to go and the men soon realised that the more noise they made the more confused they became, thus making it easy for Arahad and his companions to take each one by surprise. Slashing their heels, they waited for them to fall over before burying their swords in their brain. If they had one, that is.

The four men lost no time in turning their backs to them and giving their undivided attention to the open doors of the ominous building. There were no orcs inside but it didn’t look less ugly or forbidding. Yet this didn’t dampen their spirits in any way as they walked slowly inside. Once in, they each took hold of a torch which they lit up, thus making it easier for them to see where they were going. It looked like a great hall with doors and corridors all round and stairs leading up.

“Where to now?” asked Odell, with a puzzled look on his face. 

“Let’s start with the upper floors,” was Arahad’s prompt answer, “and then we’ll slowly work our way downstairs.”

“Have you an idea what you’re looking for?” demanded Tor. “Gold? Jewels? I mean, I know that these foul creatures might have a hoard of precious things stacked in here somewhere…or we might find prisoners who are waiting for someone to come and free them from gaolers still lurking around in the shadows.”

But this thought made their hearts heavy as all of them knew that no man could survive an orc attack and it was certainly unheard of that people were caught by orcs and held prisoners. Reading their minds, Arahad spoke.

“Although highly improbable, this makes me all the more determined to search this place thoroughly and make sure that no one is left here to suffer a slow and agonising death.” The resolution on his face was contagious. It was during moments like this, when they looked at his face, all set in sheer determination, that they realised that they could follow Arahad anywhere. Looking at him in wonder, no idea was too foolish and no venture became too reckless. He was their leader and they knew he was right.

“Let us start with upstairs.” It was Odell who broke the silence and all four of them went up to explore the dark building.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The search in the upper floors of the building led to nothing. The rooms could be described more as large, dark and filthy cells. The men were disgusted at what they set eyes on. They knew that orcs were unnatural and revolting beings but taking a look at their abode made the rangers repel them even more. Dirt, blood and what they hoped were animal carcasses, lay everywhere…left there to rot and decay since the day that the foul creatures had been feasting on it. The stench was unbearable and it was all they could do not to throw up at the sight of it all.

“There’s nothing here,” Odell’s pale green face showed clearly that he had forgotten his hunger. “Let’s go downstairs and check where the doors and corridors lead to.”

They trudged down the stairs, their spirits slightly dampened by what they had seen. They tried the doors one by one, each of which led to a different area of the building. One time they arrived at what must have been the kitchens, where an enormous furnace covered a large part of one wall and long tables filled the room from side to side. Once more animal remains littered most of the tables and floors. The sight was repelling and the men soon turned back the way they had come.

The final corridor led to the armoury. This was made up of two large rooms filled with all kinds of gruesome and nasty looking weapons. Arahad grimaced. The sight was appalling. Just looking at them made his blood boil. The horrors of the battle imprinted in his mind, he silently cursed the orcs and all the evil they represented. Many a good man, dwarf and elf had perished that day and he could still feel the anger and desperation as he fought alongside Bard, thinking that all hope was lost.

But then the eagles came. Arahad smiled as he recalled how they all joined forces and eventually won in the end. United they stood in the face of doom and they were rewarded with victory. Then he let out a chuckle as he thought of Beorn in his bear form venting his anger on the orcs. It was a sight never to be forgotten.

“Hey! There’s another door here.” Arahad was awakened from his reverie by the sound of Hamar’s voice. The other three moved closer to where Hamar was standing near a corner at the far end of the great room. Half hidden by a cumbersome piece of furniture, Arahad could barely discern the outline of a dark, wooden door. What was peculiar in all of this and what puzzled all of them was the reason why the door had been obstructed by this massive shelving. It was almost as if it had been hidden on purpose.

“Let’s move this thing.” Odell voiced his thoughts as they joined forces in pushing and pulling the huge furniture out of the way. No sooner was this done then they noticed another strange thing. A thick plank had been nailed right across the door. This increased their curiosity even further as without another word Tor went to fetch a crowbar-like weapon that he had seen on one of the shelves. He put one end of it under the plank and started pushing on the other with all his strength in an attempt to free it from the door.

This proved to be an easier task than expected, for although both the door and the plank were thick, the men realised that the wood was worn out and rotten. Many years had passed since this door had been sealed thus. Removing the plank, the door gave way under one kick of Arahad’s boot and the four men were left staring at an entrance to a dark and damp corridor.

A waft of dirt and mould filled their nostrils as they made their way through. The thick layer of dust showed clearly that this place hadn’t been used for hundreds of years. They walked in silence yet one could tell their excitement increasing with every step they took just from the look on their gleaming faces. All thoughts of fear, food and disgust dissipated as they slowly made their way down that mysterious corridor. Why had it been so securely locked up? What was there at the end of the passage?

Arahad, who was in the lead, stopped suddenly. “Attention friends, there are some steps going downwards,” he whispered, for he didn’t feel that he should speak loudly in that place. As he was descending his senses were heightened to a degree that he had never felt before. His excitement was so that he could barely breathe and, unlike the others, he could feel it. There was something strange in the air over here, that had nothing to do with the rest of the building. An overpowering feeling of calm which he was afraid to disturb even by his own breath. A sensation of tranquillity and peace that could almost be described as…magical.

He finally arrived at the bottom of the flight of steps but the sight that met his eyes was not quite what he had expected. The others were at his heels and all of them looked around the room trying to get an idea of what could have happened.

Although many years had passed, they could discern corpses on the floor that had long ago begun to turn into brittle bone and dust. But what was odd in all of this was that some of them were wearing elvish armour and weaponry.

The men looked at each other. “What in heavens’ name were elves doing down here?” Tor‘s puzzled expression reflected that of his friends yet none provided an answer, for it was a complete mystery to all.

It was at this point when Arahad noticed that one particular elf seemed different. While the others were scattered around the room, seemingly meeting their deaths slaughtered by the orcs, this one died sitting upright, with his back resting against the wall at the far end. The more Arahad approached him, the more he sensed that feeling of magical tranquillity that seemed to find its way into his inner core. It was incredibly overwhelming and Arahad knew that there was something there which was patiently waiting to be revealed.

He strode towards the sitting elf guard in no time with the others following suit. By now he couldn’t control his excitement anymore. His dark eyes opened wide when he noticed that the soldier was holding an elvish blade in his hands. He took it gently from him while the others gathered around, speechless. Slowly he straightened up. The sword was beautiful. He had heard about the beauty and perfection of elvish swords and weapons but he had never held one in his hands before that day.

“There’s something written on it,” muttered Hamar under his breath. “It’s written in the common tongue, look!”

“The path shall be shown to the true of heart.” Barely had the words come out of Arahad’s mouth then an outline of a door started to show itself on part of the wall behind the soldier. All four of them stood there, watching incredulous at the magic taking place right before their eyes. Stepping forward, Arahad touched the door which opened wide to reveal what it had been securely protecting all these years.

The room was small, much smaller than the one they were in. In a glance, Arahad realised that there was no other exit from there. But attention was drawn to something else. Lying on the floor in the middle of the room, was a figure covered in a strange, glimmering light. Holding his breath, Arahad stepped closer and stared unbelieving at the most beautiful elf maiden he had ever seen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank all those who are leaving kudos and comments. Although the chapters are not that long I tried to fill in with as much information as possible. Please feel free to comment as much as you please xo

Chapter 4

Gandalf wasn’t happy. At all. The unsettling feeling of unease and restlessness continued to slowly gnaw away at his piece of mind. He knew, deep down in his heart, that what had happened at Erebor months ago, was just the beginning. There was no denying it. The Dark Lord had returned and with him the forces of evil. He had been beaten at the battle of Dol Guldur but he certainly wasn’t vanquished yet. Of this he was certain.

Still, what irritated him most was the difficulty he had found in imparting this news and convincing the others. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t witnessed with their own eyes the evil forces that Sauron could summon! It had taken hundreds of years for him to breed such an army at Gundabad! Right under their noses! They wouldn’t have stood a chance if they hadn’t joined forces against him. But even though Gundabad lies deserted now, it is most likely that he has sought refuge somewhere else. He’s in hiding and lying low at the moment but he is most definitely not destroyed.

Oh true! Lady Galadriel had banished him from Dol Guldur, bringing him to his knees. Yet Gandalf knew that there was one thing that could really destroy the master of darkness. The one ring. But where was it? Saruman was convinced that it has been lost forever but he was not so sure…

My Lady Galadriel! The Lady of Light. Gandalf smiled to himself whenever he pictured the lovely Lady of Lorien in his mind. Despite the fact that she has made significant progress, she was still recovering from what she had gone through at Dol Guldur. For, although immensely powerful, it did not mean that she was invincible. Her energy had been drained by the end of the battle and this in itself showed the power that Sauron had regained unaware to them all.

They needed to take action, and not just be on their guard. But he knew far too well the nature of elves. They were calculating and deadly in battle but, by the moon and stars, it took them a long time to act! This was probably due to their immortality. His long time friend Elrond was a great warrior in battle yet, as a powerful healer, he also tended to be tranquil and avoid getting involved as much as possible. This irritated Gandalf at times for even though Rivendell was farther to the west, it didn’t mean that it was at all safe from the forces of darkness.

Then there were Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. His inner thoughts were an open book to the Lady of Light. Here at Lorien they have had many a long walk together in its beautiful gardens, all the time discussing what had happened at Dol Guldur and immediately afterwards. He was always fascinated by what she had to say. They both had come to the conclusion that Sauron wasn’t an imminent peril yet the danger remained and Gandalf knew it wouldn’t be long before groups of orcs started regaining strength and attacking once again.

“One must also not forget the nine wraiths,” he reminded the Lady, although he was sure that Galadriel didn’t need any ‘reminding’ of what she had seen. But he didn’t want to put pressure on her more than was necessary. Not for the time being.

This left him with the Elvenking Thranduil. Letting out a long deep sigh, Gandalf sat slowly on a bench in one of the beautiful gardens of Lorien. Putting his pipe into his mouth, he stared thoughtfully ahead of him. Well, he couldn’t quite grasp this elvish lord completely yet. Before the battle of the five armies he would have dismissed him as proud and arrogant. Of course he had all the reason to be, being both an admirable warrior and the King of Mirkwood. Age and experience had made him wise and very protective towards his people yet this had also made him secluded and cut off from what was happening outside his kingdom.

At first the wizard’s attempts at making him see this were met by disdain and sarcasm, yet Gandalf realised that, by the end of the battle, Thranduil had changed somehow. Well, arrogant he remained still, yet now he was visibly more open to discussions as to what must be done to counter attack the evil forces, not just in his own kingdom.

As Gandalf sat there, quietly brooding on all of this, he couldn’t help but notice the beauty of the nature around him. The lush and abundant greenery of Lothlorien was a magnificent sight to behold at this time of year. The colours of the leaves on the trees were so brilliant and vibrant, reflecting the variety of flowers that adorned the paths all around. Almost as if sensing the wizard’s close affinity towards nature, a butterfly came slowly to rest on his staff. Gandalf gingerly protected it with one hand and, as soon as it stepped on his finger, he slowly moved closer to it before it flapped its wings and flew away over some flower.

Soft steps coming their way had disturbed its private conversation with the wizard. Gandalf looked up to see who was approaching and smiled. “Have you been sent to look for me, my lady? Do not worry. I knew it was time for the council to begin, and I wasn’t going to miss it!”

Tauriel smiled, “I have no doubts about that Master Gandalf. I have been present to some councils now and I am certain that it is not quite the same without you! You have a particular way how to make it…how shall I put it… interesting?”

Then her expression became more serious. “But we had better hurry now because I am afraid that it has already started.”

Gandalf stood up, put away his pipe and waited for Tauriel to lead the way up flights of stairs and long corridors to the council room. At long last she stopped in front of a great wooden door carved in beautiful designs of trees and foliage. As she opened the doors for him to walk through she whispered a barely audible “Good fortune!” as he passed by her to step inside. He nodded and thanked her before she closed the door silently behind him.

The room he was in was enormous. The high arched glass doors all around the chamber led to a balcony which overlooked the breathtaking city of Caras Galadhon. In the centre of the room there was a great oak table around which the most powerful elves in Middle-earth were sitting discussing the events that had been going on recently.

No sooner had he stepped inside then Lady Galadriel turned her face slowly in his direction. “We were waiting for you Mithrandir,” came the voice in his head. The corners of her mouth were turned slightly up, a hint of amusement reflected in her eyes. He moved forward to find his place at the table. Since Saruman the White had sent word that he was unable to attend this meeting, it had been up to Gandalf the Grey to take his place and represent the great Order of the Wizards.

Gandalf promptly excused himself for being late, to which King Thranduil merely smirked and raised an eyebrow. He was annoyed at being interrupted, especially by this particular wizard who tended to come up with the most incredible stories and outrageous demands. But what really bothered the Elvenking was that through experience he had learned that most of the time the Grey Wizard was right in his at first incredulous assumptions and forewarnings of impending doom.

“No, I don’t believe that Imladris is in any imminent danger at the moment,” continued Thranduil, turning his attention once again back to Lord Elrond, “its location being further away to the west. But, I’m afraid that the same cannot be said of my kingdom after what we have seen unfolding before our eyes these years, culminating in the great battle just a few months ago.”

“The enemy was vanquished,” he resumed, slowly looking at them one by one, “yet my heart is not at peace. I fear for the safety of my people and it is for this very reason that I cannot step aside anymore. We shall no longer stay enclosed within our walls. If the enemy grows too great and strong, this could be our downfall. We are preparing ourselves for what may come…we shall fight until our last if it is the only way to protect our kingdom.”

They all knew that it pained him to talk like that. It went against all he had stood for until now. His father, along with a great number of his people, had died in war and this had made the Elvenking enclose himself and his people inside his kingdom. Still, this had never been enough to protect the ones he loved from the evil that lurked outside. Thranduil let his thoughts stray for a brief moment to a lovely face with blue grey eyes and a smile that had had the power to make his heart leap with joy. It was a fleeting moment of happiness which went away as quickly as it had come, leaving in its place an immense void deep within his heart.

Lord Elrond looked gravely at him. “I agree with what you are saying my friend and, as you very well know, our people will be with you when the need shall arise.”

“And those words are true for Caras Galadhon as well.” It was Lord Celeborn who spoke now, his tone grave and resilient. “We will stand together against this evil that threatens our peace.”

“What is on your mind, Mithrandir?” Gandalf looked up and saw Lady Galadriel looking at him, her eyes full of concern. “My Lady,” he said out loud, never taking his eyes off hers, “The Dark Lord has been banished to the south yet I fear he is so powerful that his allies are gathering forces, even now at this very moment we speak. It is essential for all to be prepared and if I may add, pay attention to every sign, as small as it may seem, which could show us if something is amiss.”

To these words everybody agreed and it seemed as if the meeting was coming to an end. “So tell us, Gandalf, what are your plans now?” grinned Elrond.

“Oh! I’m afraid I also have some urgent business which I have to attend to, my lord Elrond,” replied the wizard in his usual mysterious manner of one who’s hiding something up his sleeve. “Yet before that, my intention is to pay a visit to my friend Bard back in Dale and see how things are going on with the rebuilding of the city.”

Barely had he finished the sentence then King Thranduil spoke. “In that case, you shall travel back through Mirkwood with me and we will provide you with guards to escort you to the city,” he announced while standing up from the table.

Elrond half smiled as he stood up as well. Gandalf pursed his lips. Thranduil’s manner baffled him at times. He couldn’t help but wonder whether the Elvenking’s words had been an offer as a sign of friendship or a downright order which should not be discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope that Gandalf and Thranduil's introduction in the story meets your expectations. I tried to be as true to their character as possible, keeping in mind what they have been through as well.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

 

The men stared in disbelief at this unearthly vision. “She…she’s breathing!” muttered Hamar incredulously under his breath, “She’s alive!” They looked at each other and then back again at the beautiful elf resting peacefully on the ground in that black hole which was Gundabad.

She lay there, soft breaths barely visible, looking tranquil whilst enveloped in a deep sleep brought upon by an enchantment of some sort. “This is powerful elvish magic,” cut off Odell, “the layer of glimmering light seems to be protecting her in some way. Look…not even dust dares fall on it. By all the gods in the heavens, she must have been resting here for years.”

“Have you seen the remains of the soldiers in the other room? Years? I would say more than a thousand!” replied Tor. “A thousand years asleep in here! Protected yet imprisoned for eternity! This is unbelievable! I cannot imagine how…why…” Tor was at a loss for words. They all were for this was the last thing they had expected to discover there. “If it hadn’t been for Arahad’s stubbornness...” and his voice trailed away once again.

Arahad hadn’t uttered a word the whole time. He had been too confused and mesmerised by what he was witnessing to speak and he had too many questions in his head which he wanted answered. It was the mention of his name that slowly brought him back to reality. 

“We must wake her up,” was all he said, and he slowly knelt down beside the delicate frame and stretched his hand forward until he brushed her cheek with his fingertips. No sooner had he done this than her eyes opened wide and she inhaled a deep breath, making the four men standing near take a step back. Fighting orcs was decidedly an easier task than witnessing these kind of enchantments.

The mysterious glow surrounding her slowly dissipated into thin air as she continued taking deeper, more frequent breaths whilst blinking in succession. Turning slightly her head, she looked directly at Arahad with eyes that betrayed pain and confusion.

It was then that Arahad sprang into action. Ever so gently, he put his arms under her and lifted her up. Holding her like that he realised that she wasn’t as small as he had at first thought. Lying next to her the men found an elvish sword which they had failed to notice before. Hamar picked it up and, without uttering another word, the four of them started on their way back out of that miserable place.

No wonder had the door been sealed by the orcs all those years ago. The men had heard of the great power of the magic wielded by the elves and now they had seen it with their own eyes. The orcs must have closed the entrance to protect themselves from it, believing all to be dead inside the room. As time went by it had been forgotten as if it had never existed.

Through the armoury, the corridor, the great hall and finally the entrance they went, moving on and never looking back, suddenly feeling the need to leave that forsaken place behind them as quickly as possible. Once outside, they breathed the fresh, crisp night air, and it was only then that Arahad handed over the sleeping maiden to Odell.

They quickened their step. If Gundabad wasn’t a welcoming place during the day, it sure was eerie and frightening at dusk. Bats and crows circling the tall towers added to the overall aura of foreboding.

Through the gates and up the rocky slopes they hastened until they found the place where they had left their horses. Arahad wasted no time in getting on his horse and telling Odell to hand him gently the elf maiden. He felt the need to put as much distance between them and Gundabad as possible. He had had enough of that cursed place. By now all the others were on horseback and, holding her safely in his arms, he kicked the horse to a gallop through the barren land towards a more welcoming place.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The sun had long set by now and the full moon shone brightly in a sky decorated with stars. It was a clear night. Quite cold but not windy and the moon lit up the eastern path they were taking, in the direction of the Grey Mountains. 

The rangers rode fast through most of the night, their minds set on putting as much distance as possible between them and that desolate kingdom. Although riding as a group, not one of them uttered a word, each of them pondering on his own thoughts. All were quiet as they dwelt on the same thing…who was the mysterious maiden they had just discovered? How had she been trapped in there? What had forced her to come to Gundabad in the first place? It was unbelievable how she had survived all these years deep inside such an orc stronghold.

The path became better as they rode further east. It was less rocky and bleak as more trees and greenery started growing on both sides. It was almost as if that same path was coming to life the further from Angmar they got. They could now hear birds in the branches above their heads and this was also a sign that dawn was approaching, bringing with it a new day, the first one after so many for the lady resting against Arahad’s chest.

It was then that Arahad, who had been in the lead, came to a halt. They could see the Grey Mountains not far away to their left whilst to their right, far in the distance, they could discern the boarders of the forest of Mirkwood. “It would be better if we find a place where we could rest and eat something,” he stated, to which all the others agreed wholeheartedly. They admitted that they were, in fact, exhausted and positively famished after the excitement and the discovery of the previous day.

Not far away from the road they found a stream which they guessed was coming all the way from the mountains. This also meant that it was on its way to join other streams as it rushed south to finally become one with the great River Anduin.

One by one the men got off their horses and Tor went to help Arahad. Although awake, the elf maiden had little strength to dismount on her own, so Arahad and Tor helped her and placed her on a blanket by the bank of the stream. She looked at them with a confused look on her face before observing her surroundings and then looking far away in the distance. All this she did in complete silence, causing Arahad and Tor to look at each other, not knowing what to say or do next until finally Arahad signalled to his friend to move away and give her some time alone.

“Don’t leave!” Her voice was so soft that it was barely audible against the gurgling of the nearby stream. Arahad stopped in his tracks and signalled to Tor to go and help the others while he sat down slowly next to her. She must be frightened. So were Arahad’s thoughts, yet he had no clue how he could make her feel more at ease. He was at a loss for words like never before.

Then he turned round and saw her blue grey eyes looking directly at him. She was sitting straight, wide awake now, completely revived from her long slumber. Her golden hair was done in braids and cascaded all the way down to her waist, almost touching the blanket on which she was resting. The first rays of the sun made their way across mountain, valley and stream to bathe her face in their warmth. She was breathtaking. But it wasn’t just that. There was something about her which could only be described as some kind of inner strength.

“I…I…You…” He was actually working on the difficult task of putting a coherent sentence together when he was stopped short by the shouts of his comrades. “Wolves!” shouted Tor as he came running back from a clump of trees followed by three huge growling beasts.

“Wargs more likely!” uttered Arahad through gritted teeth as he stood up brandishing his sword and charging straight towards them. These were fierce, unearthly monsters, bred by orcs to serve their purpose in battle; for they weren’t used just as a means of travel, as is usual with a horse, but they were trained to kill and feast upon the enemy, feeding solely on the flesh of the poor soul who dared cross their path. They had seen many of these beasts in battle and it was impossible to forget the cries of the unfortunate as they were torn limb from limb by their pointed fangs.

By now Odell and Hamar had come rushing back after hearing the shouts and hideous growls. It was difficult to contain them. The wargs were swift and strong, wanting desperately to quench their thirst for blood. Saliva dribbled from their jaws as their blood red eyes sought out the slightest movement made by the men in order to start their onslaught.

Chaos was unleashed in a split of a second. Hamar looked sideways at Odell as he let out a loud cry and rushed forward in a frontal attack of the first warg. Odell was at his heels and, as one jumped sideways the other slashed the beast’s legs, in an attempt to bring it down as quickly as possible. It was only thus that they could overpower it and finally give it a deadly blow. They worked together like clockwork for they had killed many during the battle a year ago. 

Arahad too did not find it difficult to do away with the one he was facing. Trained and lithe, he ran forward as quick as lightening but when the creature’s head was just a couple of metres away, Arahad ducked down just in time as he heard the warg’s teeth snap away at the air where his head had been just a second ago. Sliding right underneath its belly the warrior struck his mighty sword in it and tore open the animal from neck to tail, making it collapse in agony and final death.

As he was scrambling to his feet, Arahad watched in horror as the third warg rushed towards Tor who was still bare handed, not having yet had the time to retrieve his sword. Deathly calm, Tor looked straight at it and aimed a huge blow using all the strength he possessed, right in between the animal’s eyes. The warg halted in his tracks, gave a small whimper before shaking his massive body and knocking Tor sideways onto the ground. Instead of hindering its attack, this seemed to make it even more aggressive as it shook its head and looked straight ahead, for something else had caught its attention.

Forgetting Tor, the beast lunged forward towards the stream. It was then that they saw her, standing straight and tall, facing the charging animal, holding the sword that Hamar had found beside her. Her face was set in deep concentration and there was fire in her eyes as the warg let out a fiendish cry.

But barely had it time to open its mouth than she moved nimbly sideways and in one quick movement buried the full length of the sword in its brain. By the time the huge beast fell on the ground in a dying whimper, she had already slid it out again and moved to the side as if nothing had happened or this was the most natural thing to do.

The men were left completely amazed and at a loss for words as they saw this scene unravel in front of their eyes.

“Who…who are you?” It was Odell who managed to stammer the words. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t know,” was her soft reply as her eyes once again filled with sadness.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

The journey from Lorien back to Mirkwood was uneventful. The elves decided to take the route north along the river Anduin, which Gandalf found quite pleasant. The greenery was lush and beautiful, not as admirable as that found in Lothlorien, yet still remarkable and refreshing. It also gave him the tranquillity he needed to ponder on his thoughts and decide what to do next.

Almost a year had passed since the great Battle of the Five Armies, yet he still had that unsettling feeling that it was not over. Maybe he could speak to Saruman about it? Or better not! The white wizard tends to be a little bit doubtful of what he calls “Gandalf’s ravings” but, and he chuckled to himself here, he wouldn’t be the first and surely not the last to think this of him! He was thinking about this whilst looking at the back of the regal elf riding in the lead. Thranduil would have a fit if he went up to him with some other incredible news that would jolt his world yet again.

Thranduil was a changed elf after the battle. Although barely discerned by his soldiers, servants and people, those who were close to him and knew him well saw this in some of his actions and the decisions he was taking. Just a year ago, he would never have said those words at the council. He would have never taken that stand. And now he’s saying that he’s going to fight till the last. Gandalf knew how difficult it had been for the Elvenking to say those words yet he was secretly pleased of his decisions.

The battle itself hadn’t been easy for King Thranduil. His obsession with the jewels of Lasgalen had made him blind to what was happening right in front of his eyes. Gandalf recalled the harsh words with which Legolas had addressed his father when the king had decided to leave the battlefield. The wizard also remembered the pained look on his face when he had mentioned his wife. One thing was for sure. His heart hadn’t healed. Thranduil was still suffering and fighting the terrible void left by his wife all those years ago.

The change showed mostly in his treatment of Tauriel. He would never have forgiven Tauriel’s disobedience and rebellion in another age, but Legolas’ deep feelings for her and her broken heart at the end of the battle, showed him the path to forgiveness and he accepted her back to Mirkwood for, after all, this was her home and he still remembered how he had favoured her for so many years. She was young and still had a lot to learn. She was no more a captain of the guard, for one must not forget that she had turned against her king, yet Thranduil kept an ever watchful eye on her for she was still a remarkable warrior.

“A coin for your thoughts Master Gandalf!” Almost as if knowing that she was, in truth, the very subject of his thoughts, Tauriel came riding next to him. Gandalf smiled at this elleth who was so different from the other elf maidens he had met. No silk dresses for this tough warrior. Her dark green travelling garments were the same as those worn by the other soldiers. She sat straight and elegant on her white horse, long red hair falling all the way down her back onto the saddle itself; green eyes sparkling and accompanied by the most radiant of smiles.

“Nothing in particular my Lady,” he replied, “I was merely enjoying the tranquillity of the nature around us…and at the same time hoping that it would last a long time,” he muttered under his breath.

A shadow crossed her till now serene face. “Why would you say that? Is there anything that we should worry about?” She was no fool and immediately understood the underlying implications behind those words.

“No. Nothing alarming at present, my Lady Tauriel,” he said, trying to brush it off, “but one must always keep a watchful eye.” She nodded in agreement at these words which she knew held a far deeper meaning than what the grey wizard was implying.

The riders came to a sudden halt. Looking towards the front Gandalf noticed the King with one of his hands raised. He was talking to another elf. Not far away and close to the river there was an open space. Most probably he had decided that they should stop and set camp there for the coming night.

Gandalf followed Tauriel closely, wondering at the same time how all those elves could work so well together in setting up such a huge camp in less than an hour. Fires were lit all around and, whilst many of the Woodland elves preferred to sleep in the open, gazing up at the stars which they loved, there were also many tents which were scattered here and there around the open space, the centre of which was taken up by one enormous tent, the Elvenking’s. 

Right at that moment Thranduil came out wearing the most beautiful and elegant regal robes which he had changed into from his travelling ones. He walked majestically towards the riverbank and, looking up at the sky littered with stars like sparkling gems scattered on a dark blue blanket, stood there in silence, enveloped in his own thoughts.

“He’s changed somehow,” said Tauriel, standing right next to Gandalf. “From the battle I mean…I never dared hope he would…forgive…after what I had done.” She cast her eyes down, looking at the ground. Gandalf fully understood what she meant to say with this fragmented sentence and he looked comfortingly at her.

“Don’t blame yourself my Lady. You are young and you followed your heart, which was also hurt and broken in the process. The king understood this. You and Legolas were the ones who unknowingly made him see what he had in front of his eyes all these years.”

“Love is a powerful force my dear Tauriel. It can make one do things which could have seemed impossible some time before. Tell me child,” he continued, “had it ever crossed your mind that one day you would experience those deep feelings towards a dwarf?” She looked up and gazed at the lake, her eyes glittering in the moonlight. “And you had only known him for a few days!”

“Could you now imagine what your king must have felt when his wife and the mother of his child was ripped away from him so suddenly? They had already built such a strong bond between them which could never be replaced. It was the intensity of that heartbreak that made Thranduil shut himself behind the walls of his kingdom. This made him appear cold but I can assure you that he only did it to protect his people.”

With these sage words, Gandalf sat down on a rock, took out his pipe, lit it and started smoking. Although she usually frowned upon this habit, Tauriel found the particular smell of Gandalf’s pipe unusually comforting as were his words.

“I feel as if I need to work harder to regain his trust. It’s not that I want my rank back as captain of the guard. That is not my intention. It is not important to me anymore. More than that, I want him to know that I appreciate his kindness and forgiveness.”

Removing the pipe from his mouth, Gandalf smiled. “Well said, my Lady! As for myself, I give you my blessing. And now is the right time to make him see this. He’s moved away from where he once was and the absence of Legolas is deeply felt. As I said, he has changed…”

Barely had he finished the sentence than he was interrupted by Thranduil’s voice. Deep in thought and discussion, they hadn’t noticed that the king was approaching them.

“Mithrandir, come forth to my tent. I need a word with you,” he demanded in his usual arrogant manner. He then turned a stern look towards Tauriel, “And shouldn’t you be helping the other guards with the night watch?” he ordered.

“Yes my Lord!” Tauriel promptly replied, all the time avoiding his piercing gaze. And with those words he turned round and headed towards his tent as regal as ever.

“Well,” said Gandalf, winking at Tauriel before following the Elvenking. “Maybe in certain ways he hasn’t changed that much after all!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have already mentioned in one of my comments that after watching the Hobbit movies I was a bit unsatisfied with some issues so I kind of made a mental list of all these annoying bits and tried to tackle them one by one throughout the story WITHOUT changing anything from the movies. Well, that's a tricky part but I couldn't do that to Jackson, somehow I felt it wasn't right. So I tried to weave through the story and give explanations to what might have happened.  
> In this chapter I started tackling Tauriel. Now this badass lady elf brought a lot of controversy with her. There are many who do not like her just for the fact that she wasn't in the books but I do. Think about it, is it really that improbable that there actually was an elleth fighter as captain of the guard in Tolkien's Middle-earth? If there was a Galadriel, an Arwen and an Eowyn, why not a Tauriel? Still, all this hype I felt over her started crumbling when I got hold of that love triangle. Something was off. It just didn't convince me, and it wasn't because she fell 'in love' with a dwarf but because the thing was rushed and sudden and overall highly improbable. She could have felt affection and loss in the end but love? I don't think so.  
> Other things which left me baffled were when Thranduil banishes her so quickly after she leaves the realm. If he favoured her for so many years, I would understand his anger for her disobedience but banishment? Another thing which shocked me was Tauriel herself when she confronts the King. We get it that she's young and a kind of rebel but I expected more some sort of pleading than actually threatening his life...  
> Finally, and I stop here because this is the longest note ever, I was quite taken by the end scene between Thranduil and Tauriel which comes after the deleted scene when Gandalf mentions his wife. Both scenes make him remember who he once was and mark a change in him which is undoubtedly a breath of fresh air. Well, this is my two cents till now, please feel free to comment about it. And thanks again for leaving comments and kudos, you make this first time writer happy xo


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

“There it is! Dale!” shouted Hamar happily, turning round to face the group. As they joined him at the top of the hill, they were faced with a picturesque view of the city overlooking peacefully the valley and the mountain of Erebor, joined together by one lone bridge.

Quite a few days had gone by since the fight with the wargs, but the friendship between the men and the elf maiden had flourished in such a short time. Arahad had never been one to seek friendship in an elf, dismissing their attitude as being too arrogant to his liking most of the time. Until now, that is. She was different. Unlike any other maiden, elf or otherwise, that he had met before. It wasn’t so much her outer beauty that struck him most, but more her behaviour, the way she spoke, which one could almost describe as regal. She seemed to possess an inner strength that was remarkable to behold and it wore off onto the four men as well.

Not to mention that she fought like a warrior. Due to her being of elf kind, she had regained her strength remarkably quickly so, after that incident with the wargs, they started practising fighting with her but it was soon obvious that she could overcome all of them without difficulty. They were impressed by her skills and quite taken in by her manner. Their friendship grew deeper with each passing day and when they travelled they rode around her. Protecting her. For they knew that even though she was physically strong, there was a deep emptiness in her heart that made her vulnerable.

For she had lost all memory of who she once was. She soon discovered that she had no answer to the questions the rangers asked her. Who was she? What had she been doing in Gundabad? Why had she gone there? Who had practised the magic on her to protect her? What was her name?

Nothing. A black void, a dark emptiness which for now seemed impossible to fill. There were just three things which could hold a key to her past. There was the first sword, which they had found in the hands of the soldier who had guarded the room where they had found her.

Then there was her own sword. Now this was an extremely beautiful blade. None of the men had ever seen anything like it before. It was made of one long piece of metal, from hand grip all the way through to the tip of the blade. It had cut out designs all along, similar to holes which let the light pass through when it was being handled. She swung it round with both grace and agility, holding it almost as if it was an extension of her own body. It had, in truth, a rather lethal looking shape…and in her hands it was deadly.

Finally there was the necklace. None of them had noticed it at first due to the high neckline of the dress she was wearing. It was a small but exquisite pendant made of a shiny white precious metal and a crystal clear gem which had been shaped very much like a star with pointed edges. It was in fact this very ornament that gave her a name.

Not knowing what her real name was, they tried at first to list as many female names as possible, hoping that maybe one of them could stir some hidden memory yet it was to no avail. Hamar came up with quite a few fancy ones which made them all laugh in merriment but Arahad noticed how she fell silent soon afterwards. Her pain was tangible and he felt deeply for her not being able to remember something that came so natural to the rest of them.

And so it was that when he saw her looking at the necklace and then up at the North Star one night, he couldn’t stop himself from saying “Star!” She had looked at him, puzzled, and he repeated what he had just said with more conviction in his tone.

“Star. That is what you shall be called!”

She smiled, yet her brow furrowed for an instant, almost as if a fleeting memory had rushed uncontrolled through her mind.

“It’s almost as if…” But she could not understand what she was feeling. Except for one thing. She liked it.

“Yes,” she agreed, “my name shall be Star, for now.”

Arahad watched her face glowing in the moonlight, happy like a child having been given a much longed for toy, and simply thought of how her beauty outshone all the other stars in the heavens.  
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************

Bard was definitely taken by surprise at seeing the group on his doorstep. He had watched them depart from Dale a couple of weeks back and he never expected to see them again so soon. It usually took them many months or even years for them to visit again so one can imagine his bewilderment when he set his eyes on their grinning faces as he opened his front door.

“Welcome back my friends! Do come in and make yourselves at home!” was his greeting as he made way for them to enter his dwelling which one must say was strikingly different from the dismal one he had possessed in Lake Town. It was much bigger and without any doubt more welcoming, mirroring all the other houses in the city. For considerable changes had taken place in Dale since the battle which brought the already dreary remains of the city to its knees. With their share of the treasure, which was exceedingly great, the people of Dale sought to rebuild the city and restore it to its former glory.

He was just about going to ask what had brought them back so soon, when he noticed the elf maiden and turned towards Arahad with a puzzled look on his face.

“Her name is Star,” was Arahad’s answer to his unspoken question and he proceeded to tell his long-time friend all about the adventures that they had been through since they left Dale some weeks before.

By the end of this incredible story Bard was left visibly bewildered and also curious about what might have happened to the maiden all those years ago. They continued to recount the road they had taken and that after leaving Gundabad they felt that it was much safer to travel along the borders of the forest of Mirkwood instead of riding through it along the banks of the forest river.

“Yet that path could have taken you directly to the Elvenking’s Halls. Didn’t it cross your mind that the Mirkwood elves might have an answer to all your questions?” put in Bard.

“The forest is still dark and gloomy, not to mention that there could still be many perils or dangerous creatures lurking around its paths,” said Odell.

“So we thought it wouldn’t do anybody any good if we were eaten by giant spiders along the way,” chuckled Hamar. 

“And I still don’t know what I was doing in that evil place.” They all turned round to look at Star. “We could have been banished from the kingdom…and that was why we found ourselves there…” Her eyes held a blank expression as if she was really believing that this was the reason behind the plight that she and those doomed group of soldiers had found themselves in all those years ago.

“Nonsense!” She was startled back to reality by Arahad’s assertion. “I don’t believe it and, to tell you the truth, and I think that we all agree about this here, I am convinced that you weren’t a common elf maiden either! Your clothes, your sword, the necklace and the way those brave soldiers protected you till their last… all of this is clear evidence that you are a high born elf, descending from an important family. This is what we must think about and you mustn’t let darker thoughts invade your mind.” 

To this speech everybody agreed and she smiled at them in gratitude. She looked at his dark eyes with affection. He had a way to make her feel better…and it wasn’t the first time she had felt this since they first met. All of them had been so kind to her. They had saved her from the horror and protected her in her vulnerability. She will always be grateful for what they have done and promised herself to try and pay them back one day.

Her thoughts were interrupted abruptly by Bard’s youngest daughter rushing in as fast as her legs could carry her. “Pa, we must get ready! I don’t want to be late for the feast and celebrations!” she exclaimed in merriment, “I have to put on my new dress and oh it’s going to be so beautiful and incredible! There’s going to be lots of food to eat and drink and children can play games while the grownups can dance and sing and be merry. And people are saying that Gandalf the wizard might come by and show us some of his amazing fireworks! They say that they are a sight to behold and nothing can be compared to them!”

The child’s eyes shone with excitement and anticipation at the coming festivities. Star felt her heart immediately warm up towards this sweet little girl. Her innocent and spontaneous childish chattering brightened the whole ambience of the room in an instant. 

“Calm down my sweet Tilda,” laughed Bard, “can’t you see that we have guests?” Looking at Star he continued, “You must excuse her My Lady but it has been a long time since the former people of Lake Town have organised a feast of this proportion. This is the first one held over here in Dale and everyone has got involved and excited by it, and I dare say children and grownups alike!”

“But wait!” suddenly he looked up, visibly excited at the thought that had just crossed his mind. “Gandalf!” he exclaimed.

“What about him?” asked Tor.

“Don’t you see?” replied Bard, “Gandalf could be the key to unravel this mystery. He is one of the Wise and has been through many adventures. He has travelled far and wide for countless years. I would not find it unusual that he knows something about what happened to Star. Or at least he might give us some sort of lead.”

This unexpected news filled them with encouragement. They trusted the wizard completely and felt certain that he would be of some help. And with that comforting thought in their hearts they soon turned back to talk about the coming celebration.

********************************************************************************************************************************************************

The feast that everybody in the city was talking about wasn’t a one day affair. It represented nothing less than the rebirth of the now prospering city of Dale. Since the Battle of the Five Armies the people had worked hard and tirelessly to achieve this. The surrounding walls had been rebuilt and most of the houses were now habitable and welcoming once again. Trees and flowers lined the streets and pathways, which became the playground for children’s games and joyful laughter.

All this would never have been made possible without their share of the immense wealth of Erebor. Dwarf king Dain, son of Nain, was also much changed after the battle and the loss he had suffered made him more malleable and ready to divide his hoard with the brave who fought with honour and much valour.

That night Arahad and Bard were waiting patiently downstairs. Odell, Tor, Hamar and Bain, Bard’s son, had already left to join the cheerful crowds around the city, most of them gathering in the main square.

Bard’s daughters were helping Star get dressed for that night. The elfish gown she possessed was set aside for the moment to be replaced by more traditional clothes worn by the women of Dale. She now wore a white long sleeved blouse, tied with a lace ribbon in front, and a dark red knee length skirt. The dress was completed with a thick black belt and black knee-high boots. Tilda had spent a good hour making her hair in braids but before going down she covered half her head with a scarf, tying it in a knot at the back. This head piece hid her elf ears completely, thus making her no different than any other woman in Dale.

It could be said that as soon as he saw her coming downstairs, Arahad fell completely under her spell. She looked radiant to say the least. Although the clothes she wore were simple and without any ornaments or other embellishments, her skin was glowing and her eyes reflected the serenity she was feeling at that moment, possibly the first after her awakening from the deep sleep.

Arahad’s attention towards her didn’t go unnoticed by Bard who, as they were getting ready to go out of the front door, whispered “Be careful my dear friend” whilst putting a hand on his shoulder, making Arahad turn round. He knew exactly what Bard was referring to by these words, yet he feared that it was already too late now. Since he had first set eyes on her, Arahad felt that he had lost all control over his feelings. He wasn’t a fool. He knew perfectly well she was an elf but he had already lost the will to fight this battle.

The evening and night went by in great joy, merriment and celebration. The friends enjoyed delicious food and drink. They played games with the children, sang songs of war, friendship and victory and danced all night long.

Arahad felt happy, the happiest he had been for a very long time. Standing next to Star, he ironically felt that he could really almost touch the heavens and stars with his fingers. Looking at her standing tall and proud, he inhaled deeply, trying to catch his breath from her beauty.

Almost as if sensing his eyes on her, she turned to look at him, smiling warmly. By all the gods in the heavens she was so lovely that without thinking, Arahad moved slowly closer until he managed to whisper “…so beautiful!” before betraying all his better judgement in one sweet kiss which also took both of them by surprise.

Star didn’t fight this. She sensed that something was quickly growing between them yet she couldn’t discern whether it was love or friendship. So she gave in. She wanted it too and felt happy at first until she started feeling something else awakening inside her. Without warning, a rush of deep warmth invaded all her senses, all through her body. It was a strong, indescribable sensation that was unleashed, leaving her breathless and wanting for air. She felt confused and unable to control this tingling sensation which increased in strength until it rang in her ears. She opened her eyes suddenly and found herself staring directly at a pair of clear blue eyes.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

The Elvenking opened his eyes wide. What happened? What had awakened him so abruptly from his sleep? Sitting up he felt strangely disoriented, a sensation which was very unusual to him for he had never felt like this before. His breathing was coming back to normal when he slowly recalled those sweet blue grey eyes gazing at him. It was then that he felt a warm tear run down his cheek.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

The great gates leading to the palace were wide open to welcome their king and his entourage back home. It was usual for Thranduil to feel relieved and content as he made his way through the gates, grateful that nothing had happened along the journey which could have resulted in the loss of more elven blood.

However it was different this time. His mind was set on something else. A most vivid dream which he found impossible to ignore and shove to the back of his mind. An unusual dream which strangely felt so real and tangible that it left him short of breath just thinking about it. It had been so real. He could almost have touched her. Involuntarily he bit his lower lip. It has been centuries since he had felt like that. Whenever his thoughts unwillingly drifted towards her, excruciating pain filled his heart. Yet not this night. This time it was different. Grief had been replaced by a warm feeling which he couldn’t comprehend.

“Aegnor! Take care of my horse for it is tired after travelling such a long distance!” he ordered as he dismounted from his white stallion. Then he turned to face Lathron, his most trusted advisor, who had remained in Mirkwood to take care of the realm in his absence. “Have the last few spider nests been destroyed? I want the forest clear of those foul creatures!”

“Yes, My Lord,” replied Lathron, following his king up the stairs and along the beautiful corridors leading to his study and private chambers. “Another problem has arisen however.”

Thranduil stopped in his tracks and turned to face him, eyebrows raised. He hated it when things didn’t go as he had planned. “Speak Lathron, you have all my attention,” he stated with a voice that betrayed his displeasure.

“We have seen wargs in the forest My Lord. We have promptly taken care of them yet we fear lest more should come; so we sent patrols to check and cleanse the forest from them if they should meet any across their paths.”

“Good,” was the king’s reply, “yet I want all patrols and watch positions to be doubled along our borders, especially those who cross in search for the filthy creatures.”

“And, as always, I want to be informed about all those who enter the kingdom,” he continued. By now he had arrived at the huge wooden door that led to his study. Dismissing his advisor, he opened the door and stepped inside, noticing immediately that he was not alone.

His eyes opened wide. “Legolas!” he half whispered, taken completely by surprise.

Legolas turned round from overlooking the forest and came in from the balcony. With just a hint of a grin he replied “Father!” No sooner had this word left his mouth than Thranduil had covered the distance between them in two swift steps to put his hand on the shoulder of his beloved son.

“A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf…” remarked Legolas in mirth.

“And a year without you here seems a thousand…so hold your tongue,” was his father’s reply as he looked directly at his son’s clear blue eyes, checking that he was in no way hurt.

“But tell me son, what brings you here yet again when you had been decidedly set upon leaving a year ago? Has something happened?”

“No father, nothing of the sort. In fact, I’m afraid that my stay is going to be a short one. I received word that the people of Lake Town have settled nicely in Dale and that the city is now flourishing once again. I felt compelled to go and visit the city once more. I also wanted to find out how Bard is faring especially after the rumours that he is to be proclaimed king. I deemed it was the right thing to do since the last time I was there it was almost completely destroyed.”

It was an excuse.

Thranduil put his hand down from his son’s shoulder. “Is that all? Is that the sole reason why you came back?” He pierced his son’s gaze with an intensely sorrowful look which reminded Legolas of the time he was leaving just after the battle.

“No Ada. That is not the only reason,” and he embraced him, taking the Elvenking completely by surprise at this sudden show of emotion which rarely took place. Thranduil hugged him back, feeling strangely utterly satisfied and fulfilled for the second time that day.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

The road to Dale wasn’t long yet it stretched interminably due to the deafening silence that impregnated the air between Prince Legolas and Tauriel. One did not need to be a wizard to realise that it was a matter of love. Gandalf was thinking about this and at the same time looking for the right words to break the silence.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he exclaimed, in a slightly more high-pitched tone than he had intended. “Ideal for fishing or hunting maybe. What do you think my lord Legolas?” addressing the young prince who was riding by his side.

Legolas blinked, as if he had just been awakened from some deep thought. “What? Excuse my lack of attention Mithradir… my mind was on other matters,” he confessed as he inadvertently gave a quick glance towards Tauriel, who was riding some distance ahead. 

“Oh! But I understand perfectly my Lord. I am one of the Wise you know?” and he looked at Legolas with a twinkle in his kind blue eyes and a smirk on his face which made the elf realise that he could confide his feelings in the old wizard. 

“Have you had a chance to speak to her after the battle?” he asked.

“No,” Legolas replied looking straight ahead, “I left as soon as I saw her crying in grief over that dwarf’s dead body. She was heartbroken and it was then that I realised that there was no more place for me...so I left, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. But it was to no avail. The further I went the more I thought about her and how she made me feel…” Legolas’s eyes were clouded with sadness as he finally got his innermost thoughts off his chest.

“Then.” Simply said Gandalf.

“Then what?” asked Legolas puzzled whilst looking at him.

“There was no place for you then. At that moment. A lot of things have happened hence. Do not give up my young prince. Tauriel has grown up with you, she admires and respects you deeply. Remember that although you thought about this in a different manner, she has been brought up convinced that she could not bond herself to a high Sindar elf, the son of the King. This could have made Tauriel repress her deepest feelings for you. Kili’s love was also difficult for her to understand at first and finally accept. It is true, she had strong feelings for him but was it pure love or a deep sentiment for that dwarf who showed his love towards her so openly?”

Legolas looked at Gandalf in a different way now. Could it be? Is it possible? He suddenly felt a myriad of questions forming in his head which he found difficult to hold back.

Gandalf understood immediately and stopped him. “Now, I don’t want you to raise your hopes too high my dear prince. Be careful. Always. But I just want to add this to what I have already told you…Give her time!”

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

It was a beautiful day. The skies were clear and not a cloud was in sight. Birds were chirping merrily in the trees and the comforting sound of the bubbling stream not far away could make anyone feel at ease and one with nature.

Still she was confused. All this beauty of nature around her could not succeed in making her heart feel content and at peace as it was supposed to. She felt at home, here in the woods. Of that she had no doubt. Yet the emptiness inside her tainted the incredible beauty of the nature that surrounded her. She had to admit that it wasn’t enough to make her feel complete again. She knew that to achieve this she needed to remember what had happened before she fell asleep and she promised herself that she will do everything she can to get her memory back.

There were instances that had taken place these last couple of days which one could describe as giving her a mere hint of a memory, like when she heard a baby crying, whenever she used her sword or even now, as she was strolling among the trees. During these moments she felt almost as if she was on the verge of remembering something but the door remained closed, all memories shut deep within.

It was only that one time when Arahad kissed her that she was taken by surprise and caught completely off guard. She liked Arahad. He was the one who had found her and brought her back to the world of the living after having been trapped in a dream world for so long. He and the others were trying to protect her as best they could and for this she will be eternally grateful.

She had felt so cheerful and untroubled during the festivities that she had thought it would do no harm to return Arahad’s kiss. But it had been a mistake… or not? She was definitely confused about what had happened. It had been a misjudgement because she realised that what she felt for him was true friendship mixed with gratitude. Yet she was also convinced that if it hadn’t been for that kiss, along with the intense emotions that she had felt at the time, she wouldn’t have seen the other face…

She caught her breath as she recalled that vivid image which was now imprinted in her mind. Stopping in her wandering path, she rested against a tree. Those clear blue eyes were breathtaking. They pierced hers and seemed to be able to look deep inside her soul and possess it completely. The gaze was stern, yet at the same time kind and loving.

She was confused by all the emotions caused by this single, heart-stopping moment. Who was this elf? Where was he? Will she be able to find him? She knew that answers to her questions will only be found in the kingdom of the elves and that is where she must head to if she wanted some kind of explanation.

“Star! Are you there?” That was Hamar’s voice calling out from a distance. “Yes Hamar, I’m coming,” and she ran nimbly in his direction.

“We were looking for you. Tor said that he had seen you walking towards the woods.”

“Where’s Arahad?” she asked. The question didn’t betray the concern she was feeling. She knew perfectly well how that moment between them had left him. She understood that it was difficult for him. Arahad was a man with a great strength of character. It mustn’t have been easy for him to show his emotions. He must have realised immediately that his feelings weren’t reciprocated. He had excused himself as soon as it was over and she had not seen him since. She was worried that his attitude towards her might change now that he knew how she felt.

Yet she shouldn’t have felt so concerned for, waiting for them at the gate stood Arahad grinning. She searched his face as soon as they approached for any sign of regret or resentment, but she saw none in those kind, dark eyes and, it was true, she felt relieved for she didn’t know how she would have dealt with the situation if it had been otherwise. This was no orc, which she could kill with one swipe of her sword. Dealing with human emotions was much more difficult.

“There are some people we would like you to meet,” he gently informed her, “they are waiting for us at Bard’s house.”

Her curiosity awakened, she wanted to know who they were but both Hamar and Arahad didn’t give anything away and kept on teasing her all the way to Bard’s dwelling.

Tor opened the door for them and they all went inside the big front room laughing at one of Hamar’s jokes. Smiling, she saw that apart from Bard and Odell there were three others.

The first was a very old man dressed in grey, with a long beard and a strange pointed hat. The other two were elves. One was a she-elf with green eyes and long auburn hair. She wasn’t wearing a dress like she herself had when they found her. They looked more like travelling clothes, similar yet with less detail than the other blond elf talking to Bard, was wearing.

Star took a step forward to greet them with a warm smile but just at that moment the blond elf turned round. The smile froze on her face as her eyes locked into his…those beautiful clear blue eyes of her vision!


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

 

Shock and disbelief are words too mild to describe what she felt the moment she looked into that elf’s eyes. She blinked and tried to hide her feelings from taking over and she succeeded for most of the people in the room kept on conversing as if nothing had happened. Yet she knew that that first glance had betrayed her somewhat.

The first guest was introduced by Bard as Gandalf the Grey, a wizard it may seem. This news Star found quite interesting since all she had been hearing about him these last couple of days had nothing to do with wizardry but everything to do with fireworks, lights and special effects. She smiled and bowed her head to the old man standing in front of her, not missing the twinkle in his kind blue eyes.

“What amuses you, my Lady?” he inquired out of curiosity.

“Excuse my lack of manners Master Gandalf, but I was thinking about the detailed lesson I had yesterday about the incredible and colourful fireworks that you can conjure. No one enlightened me that you are a wizard as well,” she explained.

“Yes my Lady, I must admit that I have quite a few interesting tricks up my sleeve, which I will no doubt share with all of you later on tonight,” he replied amiably.

Star was no fool. She understood immediately the underlying message hidden amidst those seemingly simple words. This man looked old and frail yet there was a strength within him which was almost palpable. An immense power which could be frightening if unleashed. 

 

All along this short conversation Star could feel the blond elf’s unwavering gaze on her. He kept looking as if he had every right to do so. He was proud. She could easily say that he was high born. The only thing that kept him from questioning her was the fact that they were guests at Bard’s house. Well, she wasn’t having any of that!

She turned round abruptly and looked at him squarely in the eyes. There was a slight reproach in her gaze, just enough to show him that he wasn’t acting politely.

This took him by surprise. He never expected confrontation from any woman he had just met. Because, although slight and invisible to the rest, that was exactly what she was doing. He cast his eyes towards Bard who was about to introduce them, only to realise too late that he had just been subtly admonished by a total stranger!

“This is Prince Legolas, my Lady. He is King Thranduil’s son and this is Tauriel, a guard in the King’s army.”

Ah! That explains the arrogance, she thought as she nodded her head in greeting whilst giving them a most charming smile.

Bard continued to mention how eternally grateful he was towards them both for saving his children’s lives a year ago, first from an orc attack and then from Smaug the dragon. Tauriel, a red haired elf maiden with striking green eyes, smiled sweetly and graciously dismissed Bard’s thanks and praise; but the others joined in, wanting to recount bits of what had happened that terrible night.

All along the Prince kept quiet, looking at Star. She had unnerved him…and she knew it. Although her expression remained gracious he could discern a triumphant sparkle in her eyes. She also looked vaguely familiar…Who was she? Valar! Only one elf was able to make him feel that way…his father! These thoughts had distracted him from noticing that she had moved closer.

“You look confused my Lord,” she said calmly.

“Have we met before? Did you take part in the Battle? Were you a resident of Lake Town?” The questions came without hesitation, easy for one who was used to interrogations.

But once again he was stopped short by her steely glare. “Perhaps this will answer some of your questions,” she replied and as she spoke she let loose the gypsy like scarf she was wearing around her head to reveal two pointed elf ears.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

She loved how she continued to ruffle this haughty young prince’s mane. Still she reminded herself to be careful for she didn’t know who she was as yet. His eyes opened wider as soon as he realised that he had been speaking to one of his kin. Silence fell in the room when the others saw this and his surprise was clearly reflected in both Gandalf and Tauriel’s expressions.

“I think it would be better for all of us to have a seat and discuss what is going on here,” said Bard as he ushered the group towards an adjoining room where they all gathered around a large table.

They had all barely sat down when Arahad, Hamar, Tor and Odell started recounting their incredible story of how they had found Star. The others looked surprised and shocked as soon as Gundabad was mentioned. Legolas wanted to know every detail about what they had seen and observed and the four rangers were only too happy to oblige.

They fell silent once again when Arahad started describing the part when they found the hidden door leading to the mysterious underground chamber. Reporting in detail what they saw down there, left both the elves and the wizard open mouthed.

“Hundreds of my kin have lost their lives at Mount Gundabad,” said Legolas, and Star could detect a hint of sadness in his voice. Then he turned to address her, “but what does all this have to do with you?” he asked confused.

“Well,” interrupted Hamar, “this is where the story becomes interesting. The soldier at the other end of the room was holding this in his hand, and when we read the inscription, a door appeared behind him.”

With these words, Hamar handed the soldier’s sword to Legolas who examined it thoroughly in amazement. “This is a distinctive weapon, forged by my people many years ago. But how did you read this? Do you read Sindarin?”

“Sindarin?” echoed Arahad visibly puzzled. “The inscription is in the common tongue!” Legolas was still holding the sword and showed it to them. It was true. The words were clearly elvish. Legolas placed it delicately in the centre of the table.

No sooner had he removed his hands from it then the engraved words faded leaving no sign on the shiny weapon. “Ancient elvish magic and incantations,” whispered Gandalf. Then he turned towards Arahad, standing next to him. “Why don’t you try touching it again?” he prompted.

Arahad nodded and to everyone’s bewilderment the inscription appeared again, now in the common tongue. “It all depends on who is touching the blade,” explained Gandalf, “what was important was for it to be read by a noble heart.”

“So tell us,” continued the wizard, “what did this door lead to?” 

With this question Arahad’s eyes left the blade and turned towards Star, saying nothing. Hamar took over recounting the story from here, increasing the amazement of the other three as he described how they had found her.

“The deep sleep…” Gandalf’s voice was barely audible now. “We are dealing with great magic brought over from Valinor here. Only a few elves know how to use it…one of them is probably my Lady Galadriel of Lorien.” By now Gandalf was almost mumbling to himself, while Tauriel and Legolas were looking at Star incredulously. 

She felt unusually strange, as if they weren’t talking about her at all; and the elf maiden found in Angmar was just a character in a story. Perhaps this was the only way how her mind was able to react to the situation she was in, thus helping her remain as calm as possible.

She suddenly stood up. Addressing Legolas she continued, “I also had this, lying on the floor next to me…which I believe is mine.” And with these words she drew her sword out from its sheath and handed it over to the Prince.

If Legolas had been amazed by the first sword, the second one left him completely speechless; a condition which was unquestionably foreign to him. He sat back down, holding the sword as if it was made of glass and one wrong movement could shatter it to fragments. 

Tauriel’s voice broke the silence in the room. “It…it looks almost like…” but she couldn’t finish the sentence. Wide eyed, she looked at Legolas who was immersed deep in thought.

“Like what?” finished off Bard, now impatiently asking what everybody wanted to know. “Tell us Legolas, if you know anything about it!”

Legolas looked puzzled and slightly shaken. Gandalf and Bard looked at each other for they had not seen the Prince like this before.

“Well?” urged on Bard.

“It is very similar to my father’s sword.” The words came out slowly, almost as if he was finding it difficult to articulate them. It was a shock for him and the impact his words left was felt among all in the room.

“Are you sure?” blurted out Hamar.

Legolas shot him an ice cold glare before continuing, “The design…the hollow parts…unique. It is slightly smaller, but I have seen only one other blade such as this one…my father’s!” He finally tore away his eyes from the weapon and turned to Star once again, his brow now furrowed in bewilderment, “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry but I do not recall anything before I went to sleep.” Star said this with such sadness and sincerity that Legolas felt pity for her, only now truly understanding the horrible nature of her predicament. He couldn’t imagine what one must feel like when all memory of one’s past has been erased.

“We will help you,” he offered, “when the celebrations here are over, you will come back to the Palace with us and we will ask my father about the blade and tell him what has happened to you.”

A shadow darkened her eyes at hearing these words. Legolas perceived this. “Why? What is the matter? Is there anything troubling you with regards to what I have just said?”

“Fear, my Lord. I am afraid that I was there because I had been banished from the kingdom for something that I had done.”

Tauriel, who had been listening silently until now, slowly put her hands on hers. Star looked into a pair of green eyes brimming with sincere warmth and understanding. “You have nothing to be afraid of. Our king is generous and compassionate. He will help you find your way. The sword especially…I feel that he would know something about it, so similar it is to his own! And if it’s not him, there are also his advisers whom we can turn to. Even a small, seemingly insignificant detail could be important for you. As for stories about banishment…I would not dwell on such dark thoughts. I know others who did worse things and were forgiven!” The last sentence came out in a whisper, only Gandalf and Legolas understanding the full meaning behind it.

Star felt relieved, as if a heavy burden had just been lifted off her shoulders. The kind words spoken by Legolas and Tauriel gave her a glimmer of hope and also courage to face the truth. 

Arahad was the one to intervene now. “We’re coming with you,” he announced determinedly, “we can fill in with some more details about the fortress as well!”

Star looked at all of them and the immense gratitude she felt was evident in her eyes. Legolas agreed to this, although he was slightly irked at Arahad’s self-invitation.

Suddenly Star remembered the necklace around her neck. “I was also wearing this when they found me,” Star took it off and placed it on the table. 

“That, my Lady, is a very beautiful and delicate piece of jewellery,” remarked Gandalf excitedly, examining the necklace. “Although I am certain that I have never set eyes on it before, I am convinced that we can get help in this matter from our neighbours…King Dain and the dwarves in Erebor. If there’s someone who knows everything about gold, silver and gems, it’s a dwarf!”

And this was a statement to which they all unanimously agreed.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

 

Gandalf set out towards the mountain early the following morning, just as the first rays of sunlight fought their way through hill and valley. He was pensive, moving along with a brisk pace while brooding in his own thoughts. He had decided to leave his horse behind and walk all the way to the mountain instead, for he needed to clear, if somewhat slightly, the thoughts that had kept him awake for most of the previous night.

It was in his nature to brood and delve deeply into things, however small or trivial they might seem. He never overlooked anything, no detail escaped his scrutiny. Due to this it was not the first time that he was accused of making a mountain out of a molehill. His thoughts wandered to both Saruman the White and Thranduil…well, he had been right all along for Sauron and the forces of darkness had really returned to power as he had foretold!

But his self-satisfied grin slowly faded from his face as soon as the image of the Elvenking crossed his mind. His thoughts travelled to the bizarre events that had occurred the day before and once again Gandalf felt this strange feeling which he couldn’t quite explain.

Or perhaps he could! A thought…as impossible and unbelievable as it may seem…took form in the light of yesterday’s strange tale. Gandalf had tried to dismiss it as completely insane at first; yet it lingered there, at the back of his mind, tugging at his more common sense, until further evidence and the others’ comments made it seem more of an idea that he could actually consider.

He had kept his mouth shut, hadn’t said a word to anyone about what was going on in his mind. He did not want to raise anybody’s hopes before he was certain…absolutely sure about all this!

The wizard put his hand in his pocket and felt the necklace safely tucked in there. He gulped down and inhaled deeply in his excitement. He knew that once he reached the mountain, the dwarves will confirm what he already felt was the truth. In spite of himself, his lips curled up into a joyous grin only to chide himself the next moment, call himself a fool and double up his pace, eager to hear what the dwarves had to say.

Entering Erebor was a sight to behold. Gandalf hadn’t been inside the mountain for many months now and he took note immediately of all the changes and improvements that had taken place since then. No sign of the dragon remained, for all the parts, corridors and rooms that had been destroyed by that foul serpent had been rebuilt and made opulent, to dwarfish standards of course. For one can still not compare their building techniques to those of the elves, the latter being much fonder to the use of light and brighter colours, even when they built their dwellings inside mountains. Dwarves, on the other hand, still preferred the darker shades.

No sooner had he started to follow the dwarf who had opened the gates for him, than he was greeted by a very familiar and most welcoming voice.

“Gandalf! My dear friend, welcome! Welcome to Erebor!” this other dwarf exclaimed, his arms outstretched, white beard reaching almost to his knees.

“Balin! It is so good to see you again!” replied the wizard warmly at the sight of his old friend who was very well dressed and looking to be in the best of health. “You look well, and how are the others faring?”

Balin quickly recounted what each one of the other nine dwarves who had set out on that adventure more than a year ago, was doing at that precise moment. Gandalf couldn’t help notice how his warm smile slowly faded at the end, most probably as he remembered the other three who should have been with them, partaking in the rebirth of Erebor. But alas, it was not to be!

The clouded look quickly cleared again as Balin turned to face the wizard once more. “So, what can the dwarves do for you today Master Gandalf? For I do not believe you simply stopped by for greetings!”

“You know me all too well Balin!” Gandalf answered with a twinkle in his eye. “I came here on some urgent business and I need to see your king. I also believe that you too might help us find some answers to our questions.”

“Us? Who is us if I may ask?” replied the dwarf perplexed. But his questions were abruptly cut short. “Excuse me my friend, but this story is by far too long and complicated to be told half way down a corridor, and I also have no time to recount it twice! So, if you don’t mind, I would like to meet Dain as soon as possible!”

Balin was clearly taken by surprise at Gandalf’s sudden serious and urgent tone so, without further delay, he led him quickly down the corridors leading directly to King Dain’s study.

The king under the mountain was not quite what one would call a very welcoming fellow. Gruff and unreasonable would have fit his description much better. Like with the rest, war had changed men, elves and dwarves alike, and King Dain was no exception. Well, gruff he remained still, yet to a much lesser extent than before.

“Come in!” he bellowed from inside and then showing his surprise at seeing Gandalf at the door. “And what brings the wise wizard back to the mountain, if you don’t mind me askin’?” he questioned bluntly hands on hips. Gandalf grinned. There was no beating around the bush with Dain and, considering the business he had at hand, he didn’t mind in the least.

Gandalf went in, followed by Balin who closed the doors behind them. “I have come because I need your expert advice, and yours too Balin,” said the wizard turning to face the other dwarf, “on a piece of jewellery. I was hoping that you might shed some light on its origin.”

Gandalf approached the desk behind which Dain had sat down and, taking out the necklace from his pocket, placed it delicately in front of the dwarf, watching carefully for the king’s first reaction.

Dain’s eyes opened wide as he held it and examined it thoroughly. Balin as well didn’t take his eyes off it for a moment. Gandalf knew immediately that they both had something to say about it.

“You came to the wrong place!” barked Dain, in his normal tone of voice.

“What do you mean?” Gandalf was puzzled at this statement.

“I mean that this doesn’t belong to us. Not any more, to be exact. The handwork, the rays of the star and the rest of the chain is mithril and it was made here in this mountain. Yet the bright white gem in the centre is not one of those found here. It is way too clear.”

“So…?” Gandalf looked at them, too eager to let Dain finish what he had to say.

“I’ve seen gems like these before. I’m so sure I’d wager the Arkenstone that this is part of the same set of jewellery.”

“What set of jewellery?” repeated Gandalf, who by now could not hide his excitement any longer.

“The ones Bard gave to the pretty princess.”

“What princess?” said the wizard, now confused.

“Thranduil! Who else?” laughed Dain irreverently. Balin giggled and Gandalf, ignoring the last remark, was beaming from ear to ear, feeling definitely very pleased with himself.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Gandalf wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep the previous night. Although he tried not to show that it had troubled him so much, the sight of the sword had not only taken Legolas by surprise, but it had shocked him greatly. 

It was for this reason that he also set off at sunrise in the direction of the woods. He needed some time alone…needed time to think. And what better place other than in the comfort of the familiar trees? Not long after following the main path, he found himself in an open space and it was there, on the soft grass, that he sat down resting his back against an old oak tree.

Looking up towards the sky he couldn’t help but admire the beautiful hues created by the early morning sun. It was so calm and serene over here, in complete contrast with the turmoil going on inside his head. He smiled to himself as he remembered the carefree days of when he was younger, hunting in the woods, fishing with his friends, riding his horse, patrolling the borders with Tauriel.

Tauriel. He drew in a deep breath. He never knew exactly when feelings of friendship had changed into deeper ones of love and longing. He was only certain of one thing. Her interest in that dwarf had made his worst emotions come to the surface. He still could not understand the jealousy he had felt whenever he had seen her talking to Kili. She had seemed so much at ease, as if opening her heart to a complete stranger (and a dwarf at that!) was one of the most natural things to do.

She had never acted like that with him. Always stopped short from opening her heart too much. Thinking again of what Gandalf had told him on his way to Dale, Legolas knew that he was right. Tauriel was no fool. Although he wasn’t of the same opinion, she knew that it was inconceivable for a Sindar prince to pledge himself to a Silvan elf. She must have been told that innumerable times. His father could have had something to do with it as well. Valar! How could he have been so blind?

He bit his lip and clutched at the grass around him. Thinking about it, he had never kept back from praising Tauriel’s skills as a warrior, especially in front of his father. His true feelings were laid out as clear as crystal under the scrutiny of the Elvenking. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ada had mentioned it to her.

It was then that he understood that he needed to act more cautiously, especially if he is to be given a second chance. This thought made him smile to himself, for he had never for a single moment stopped thinking about her all these months that he had been away. If this was meant to be, he promised himself that this time no elf, dwarf or man was going to come between them.

It was the sound of her laughter that jolted him back to reality. She was approaching the glade where he was resting and she was not alone. It was strange. It had been ages since he had heard that sweet, merry laughter. But who was she talking to?

His question was soon answered as they stepped into the open space from the density of the trees and foliage. Sharing her joke was none other than the mysterious elleth they had met yesterday…the reason why he had sought for some privacy here in the first place. The sword flashed again across his mind. How had she come in its possession? Had it been a gift or had it been stolen? And what about the elleth herself? The way she spoke…the way she looked at him made him feel so uneasy…a feeling he was definitely not accustomed to. Who was she? There was something almost familiar in her…but what? For he was certain that they had never met before! By Eru, he needed answers and he couldn’t wait until they returned to the Palace where he was sure that his father would shed some light on the matter.

“Good morning Prince Legolas,” greeted him Star whilst giving him a warm smile.

“Good morning, my Lady, hope you rested well,” he replied. He then turned his attention towards the other elleth. “Good morning Tauriel.”

“Good morning, my Lord,” was her brisk reply, avoiding all eye contact. This abrupt and cold exchange didn’t go unnoticed in Star’s eyes who immediately felt the anguish going on between the two, which was a pity for, according to her, they seemed to make a nice couple. And from what she had gathered last night, they also had many a thing in common.

“We came looking for you as Star wanted to have a word with you,” continued Tauriel in the same flat tone as before, quite in contrast with the relaxed and serene elleth she had been on her way here, when she was describing enthusiastically the Palace and the caves in Mirkwood with sparkling eyes.

“Yes, and luckily for me Tauriel had noticed you making your way towards the woods, so we knew exactly where to come and look,” added Star, making Tauriel’s cheeks blush slightly and her eyes dart towards the other elleth, brow furrowed in confusion, not knowing what Star was actually aiming at.

Legolas got the hint and just managed to catch Star’s half smirk before she continued with what she had come here for.

“I know that my sword took you by surprise,” she said. “Here,” removing it slowly from its sheath she handed it carefully to him. “I thought that maybe you might want to take another close look at it.”

Legolas was taken by surprise at this gesture. Were his thoughts so transparent, in front of this elleth? But his mind went quickly back to the beauty of the weapon he was holding…so new yet so alarmingly familiar. An idea suddenly took form in his head. “Do you want to practice some sword fighting?” he suddenly proposed.

But his seemingly innocent suggestion hid an ulterior motive. He wanted to see her moves and how she was going to wield it. That would certainly say a lot about whether the sword actually belonged to her or not.

Star agreed without hesitation, sensing that something was amiss yet accepting the dare, also because there was an inner warrior deep within her that was yearning to find an equal match to her fighting abilities. Taking back the sword, she moved a few paces away, turning the weapon round in her hand with an agility and dexterity that were immediate proof that she definitely knew how to handle it. Not only that, but her stance and the way she held it as she slowly turned round to face him, as if it was in truth an extension of her own hand…well, only his father had a similar sword and held it like that! Valar! Instead of answers, his mind was gradually becoming more unclear and confused.

She attacked him then…and he was taken completely by surprise! Barely had he had any time to draw his own sword then she was all over the place, swift yet strong and, if it hadn’t been a mere practice, deadly. Blow upon blow he held back in stupor also because the technique she was using was very similar to his own. He tried to put her in difficulty and corner her a couple of times but she held her own quite effectively and always managed to turn the tables round.

All these thoughts going on through his head were enough to distract him for at one point she managed to disarm him by sliding sideways and almost getting hit in the process.

“You are without doubt a woodland elf,” said Legolas regaining his breath.

“And how did you come to that conclusion?” she inquired, still holding the sword at his chest.

“Because we are known as being less wise and more dangerous,” put in Tauriel, impressed by what she had just witnessed.

Star seemed thoughtful as she was putting the sword back into its sheath. “So this means that there are different kinds of elves I presume?”

“Yes,” answered Tauriel.

“And what about Mirkwood? Are there different kinds of elves there as well?”

This time Tauriel didn’t answer. She looked at Legolas who seemed uncomfortable. “Yes,” he finally said, “in our realm there are Sindar elves and Silvan elves.”

Star was visibly confused and she looked at Legolas demanding more explanation. “The Silvan elves have lived in these lands since the beginning of time. The Sindar elves descend from the High Elves of Lindon and constitute the nobility in our realm… I am a Sindar elf.” He said this hesitatingly and for the first time ever the words echoed hollow in his ears.

“While I am a Silvan elf,” Tauriel was standing straight, jaw clenched, eyes betraying a mixture of emotions that was difficult to decipher. Her eyes were defiant yet Legolas could perceive the hurt underneath the bold surface.

Meanwhile Star stood there, looking calmly from one elf to the other until she finally said, “You have to excuse my frankness but what, may I ask, is the difference? For I see none!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Do not give him hope where there is none"  
> Thranduil says this to Tauriel referring to Legolas. It hurt. My heroine is nothing like that :) Another box ticked!


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

 

The commotion in the streets was what first grabbed their attention as they stepped back in the city of Dale. Since the great battle, which had left the place miserable, broken and destroyed, it had, like a phoenix, slowly risen again from its ashes. Literally, when one considers how it had been burned down after the dragon’s attack.

Houses were rebuilt, streets were fixed, squares were decorated and adorned, the outer wall reinforced for protection…all this was done with a steady pace among the everyday tranquillity that reigned in the place. Star had been there for only a few days now but she had already grown used to the serenity in the eyes of the happy people surrounding her at all times and making her feel welcome in their homes as if she had been living there all her life.

This was in stark contrast to the look of fear and panic which she immediately perceived in the faces of some of the people running in the direction of the huge main square.

The three elves started running as well, eager to find out what was going on, when Star heard the familiar voice of Arahad shouting to draw her attention. She immediately made her way towards him, with Legolas and Tauriel following closely at her heels. 

“What’s going on?” said Legolas as soon as they were close enough. But Arahad didn’t answer him. Instead, his complete and undivided attention was aimed at Star. “Where were you?” he demanded brusquely. “We were worried something might have happened to you.”

Although it lasted for just a flicker of a second, Star noticed the steely glare he gave her and she was taken aback by it. What is going on? Why is he treating her like a child?

“I needed to speak to Prince Legolas. I am sorry for your concern but you are aware that I am able to take care of myself, aren’t you?” Her tone was soft. She replied rather calmly, in a way which one might consider sweet at first, yet Arahad did not mistake the tone of underlying irritation which risked to transform into anger should he decide to persist on the matter.

It was because of this that Arahad’s attention was reverted to Legolas once again and the question he had asked before. The tone in his voice reflected his anxiety. “It seems that a small village of fishermen down in the South has been attacked by a considerable number of orcs. Many were killed for the villagers were taken by surprise late last night. Only a few managed to escape on horseback and came to seek refuge here. They are now being taken care of by the healers in the Town Hall. Bard and the others are with them, trying to get as much information as they possibly can.”

This news took them by surprise, like a clap of thunder on a bright, sunny day. They knew that small groups of orcs were still wandering here and there, mostly to be found in the south. Not only, but there were other dark creatures such as wargs near the borders of the grey mountains and giant spiders in the southern areas of Mirkwood Forest which they were trying to eradicate. Yet this was the first time after the great battle whence they heard that a group of orcs attacked a village of men. It was, in fact, rather unusual considering the danger this move put them in.

“Lead the way,” came Legolas’ response as his clear blue eyes clouded reflecting his inner emotions. The four of them made their way towards the Town Hall as swiftly as they could, hindered at times by the crowds of people who were also making their way there, trying to find out what was going to happen.

They finally managed to reach the doors of the building which were guarded by a couple of soldiers, who immediately made way for them as soon as they saw them approaching. Arahad led the way from the first small room to another set of doors that led to the hall itself, much larger and built to accommodate the majority of the townspeople in case of discussions or whenever any important decision needed to be taken.

As soon as they stepped inside the four of them came across Hamar who promptly took them over to where Brad was, amid a group of men from Dale. Star’s eyes wandered over to the left of the hall where another group, of about seven grownups and three children were huddled together. Although the healers were with them, it was evident that none of them was physically wounded, yet the weeping of the two women, the glazed, sorrowful and fear-stricken look in the eyes of the men and the cries of the children shouting for their parents, was heart wrenching. 

Star felt an anger rising inside her, a thirst for revenge which could only be quenched when she sees the heads severed from the bodies of the beasts that had committed this atrocity. One by fiendish one!

Turning back her attention to the others, she listened in to the conversation going on. One of the villagers was standing among them and he had just finished explaining where their village was located down along the Running River. Bard addressed him as Einar.

“We were taken completely by surprise,” he whispered, probably still not believing what had occurred in the last few hours. “It is such a peaceful village! We’ve been living there for years now…in harmony…never thought this could happen to us,” he was saying, almost to himself, with an unfocused look in his eyes.

“Courage friend,” said Bard kindly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down and tell us everything that happened? Only then can we organise ourselves and help you.”

A seat was brought up, upon which the exhausted man sat down gratefully, eyes shining with tears barely kept back. “It all happened last night,” he continued, “we had just come back from a fishing trip. Most of the men were busy unloading the baskets of fish from the boats, the women were still in the huts and around the village along with the children…they were playing…” Once again his voice trailed off, lost in his own thoughts.

“Where were you?” urged Arahad, trying to put him back on track.

“I…I wasn’t with them. Ceorl and I had gone to one of the huts to replace some fishing nets that had been torn.” He stopped to point at one of the men who was standing with the group near the healers. “It all happened so suddenly! We were inside the hut when we heard the screams…” his voice dropped almost to a whisper once more as he recalled the horrific scenes still fresh in his mind, “men, women and children were running around trying to get out of the way of those horrible beasts and their deadly weapons…”

It was then that the tears started flowing freely down his cheeks. Brenda, one of the healers, put her arms around his shuddering body, trying to provide some sort of comfort.

“My wife and daughter…” he continued, “I saw them running with a group up the hill towards an old stone building which we use to store our crops in the winter. Its walls are thick and the doors are heavy, not easily breached…”

“Are you saying that they might still be alive?!” exclaimed Bard.

“I don’t know,” the poor man was grief stricken, “at that point we saw a number of orcs heading directly towards us, the ones that are here now. I helped them get on the horses and we rode away as fast as we could.”

The man sat in stunned silence, haunted by the horrible images going on in his mind. But Arahad urged him on, relentlessly, “How many orcs were there? Can you give us an idea?” For he knew that they were quickly running out of time with every passing minute.

“Around fifty maybe, but I’m not sure. It was complete chaos. I am sorry…” and with those words he buried his head in his hands, isolating himself in his misery.

“We need to get there as fast as we can!” All eyes turned towards Star as soon as the words left her mouth. Legolas especially was eyeing her curiously. “There might still be some people who are waiting for us to rescue them…not to mention the rest of the filth that needs to be wiped out!”

Arahad knew that she was talking out of pure compassion due to what she had been through. She couldn’t bear the thought of knowing about those trapped people waiting for them to come to their aid. Her eyes were blazing with anger as she said these words and Arahad could sense that even the others were under the spell of her voice. As for himself, one more word and he would follow her to the gates of Dol Guldur blindfolded. It was Bard who tried to rationalise things as much as possible.

“We must gather the men as quickly as we can. This is no small pack of orcs I’m afraid. We will leave just enough men to guard the city in case the need arises. The rest are to meet in the square in half an hour.”

Legolas, who had been listening attentively to what was going on, looked at Tauriel, who nodded back in accordance. “We are coming with you,” he stated, “I believe you might need all the help you can get!”

Bard expressed his gratitude as they all hurried out of the hall to get ready.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Gandalf ran back to Dale as fast as his legs could carry him. (The dwarves had actually offered a goat for him to ride, an offer which he politely declined considering he never got the hang of riding one of those beasts!)

He could barely contain his excitement at the news that he had just learnt from Dain and Balin. The pieces of the puzzle scattered in his mind were falling neatly into place just as he had been predicting. It was incredible! He still could not believe it! Safely asleep all these years in the most perilous of places!

“My Goodness!” he whispered to himself whilst shaking his head incredulously. He had heard that she possessed great powers, not as strong as those of the Lady Galadriel, yet still impressive in their own right. And this was definitely some amazing proof of what she was able to do. Unluckily she had also lost her memory yet Gandalf was very much convinced that it was only temporary, still too soon after she has woken up from the deep sleep, with nothing around her to help her recall her life long ago. But that was about to change. Yes! The wizard smiled to himself as he pictured their faces as soon as he would tell them what he had discovered.

He was panting furiously and alarmingly out of breath as he crossed over the bridge that led to the city of Dale. Heading straight towards Bard’s house, he knocked on the door and impatiently waited for someone to open it. Seconds felt like hours as a sense of foreboding crept inside him slowly, dampening his fire of elation until it was just a flicker. Where have they all gone to? He wondered.

“They’re in the Town Hall.” Gandalf turned round to face a young boy, about ten years of age, pointing in the direction of the square. He recognised him as one of Tilda’s friends.

“All of them?” questioned the wizard, already making his way there. Something must have happened in his absence which was going to thwart his plans once again. This was confirmed as soon as he saw the crowd of people still filling the space in the square, all talking excitedly to one another wearing worried looks on their faces.

Bain was talking to his sister Sigrid on the steps of the Town Hall. “Bain, where’s your father? I need to speak to him…and to the elves…and to Arahad…well, to all of them! Speak son, where is he?”

“They’re gone! They have left about half an hour ago!” was Bain’s prompt reply.

Gandalf could not believe his ears as he sensed all his feelings of elation slowly go down the gutter. “Gone?! Where? Why?”

At this point Bain tried to fill in Gandalf with the events that had occurred in his absence, making the wizard more frustrated and irritable than ever. He then went quickly inside to question the villagers further and thus gather as much information as he possibly could.

As soon as he came out he went over to Bain once again. “Boy, I need you to lead me to where my horse is being kept!”

“Are you going after them Master Gandalf?”

“No. I am heading back to Mirkwood to speak to the Elvenking. I have to talk to him about some personal and urgent matters at hand. I also find this orc business as clear as mud. I only hope that it won’t be too late!”


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

 

They rode fast, their aim was to arrive at the village as quickly as possible, hoping against all odds to find survivors of the onslaught. There was no time to think or to discuss things at length. After leaving Dale, every one of them enveloped himself in his own thoughts, mentally preparing for whatever they were going to have to face the following morning.

Einar and Ceorl had wanted to come with them. Having lived there for many years, they knew the area blindfolded and persuaded Bard in letting them join the group. He was hesitant at first since they were no fighters but simple fishermen, but the look in their distraught yet imploring eyes quickly convinced him otherwise. If it had been him in their place, he would have done the same thing.

Bard was leading the group and he swiftly took a look behind him just to put his mind at ease. He was closely followed by Legolas and Arahad, after whom rode the best fighters that remained in Dale, around seventy five men in total. Still, he did not feel at ease. He blamed this on the fact that they were on their way to fight orcs, a task which in itself wasn’t very pleasant. Yet it wasn’t just that. The uneasiness ran deeper. It was strange that such a number of orcs had joined forces once again to create havoc, so soon after they had been dispersed and hunted by all races after the battle a year ago. Even Gundabad had been left deserted according to Arahad’s descriptions of the place.

And the more thought Bard gave it, the more anxious he became, a vicious tormenting circle of doubt and angst. Orcs were not known to unite in groups…unless they have a leader! His brow furrowed. But that was impossible! Their leaders had been killed…so the question remained, what was going on here?

This made the matter at hand all the more crucial. They must find out what is amiss and deal with this problem quickly and efficiently before it grows and corrupts everything like all evil does. His one and only lingering fear was whether it was more than they could deal with. The thought of asking King Thranduil for help had crossed his mind before they had left but he had thought the diversion would waste precious time for the survivors, if there are any. Now he was wondering whether he had made the right choice!

Thinking of the elves directed his mind back towards the mysterious elf maiden following closely behind him. He didn’t quite know how to describe her. She had an air of serenity and superiority at the same time which, frankly, all elves possessed. However, she had always been very approachable and friendly in the short span of time he had known her, especially with the children.

Very similar to Tauriel, yet different in other ways. Doesn’t stand injustice and suffering, yet not impulsive…calculating rather…and evidently a born leader. The way she spoke to them inside the Town Hall was the strong and indubitable voice of an elf who was used to being in command. Her features made this task all the easier for he couldn’t deny that she was unquestionably attractive, very eye catching. He couldn’t blame Arahad for his infatuation.

Arahad. His friend was smitten. He had never seen him under a female’s spell before…usually it was the other way round. All the ladies fancied the dark looking and reckless ranger whereas he never favoured them with a second glance. Bard knew he needed to speak to him as soon as this was over. She was an elf, most probably belonging to the Woodland Realm. The king would never grant her permission to unite in marriage to a mortal man. It was out of question. 

Bard sighed. He had no idea how he was going to break the news to his friend, for Arahad could be rather childish and obstinate sometimes. Guess that locking him up in Dale prison would have to be one of the options! Bard grinned as he imagined the scene, while spurring his horse on into the approaching night.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************

Gandalf felt grumpy and terribly irritated at the sudden turn of events; quite the opposite in fact from the jovial mood he was in this very morning. It was incredible how a couple of hours could make such a difference!

Most of all he was worried. He never expected to give this very important and incredible news on his own. He had imagined them facing the King as a group. He only hoped that he would be given enough time to explain. He would not want to have to resort to other methods. With this thought he gripped his staff tighter. Magic was not an option this time.

After what seemed an eternity, he finally arrived at the gates of the palace. He quickly dismounted his horse and asked the guards on duty to be led to the King. Both of them knew the Istari-wizard very well, and his request was immediately granted.

“Follow me, Master Gandalf,” said one of them, while yet another guard took his place at the gates. He led the wizard to the wing of the palace where there was the King’s study and the council room. The guard noticed that Gandalf’s mood was very different today than when he had left the palace a couple of days before. He seemed quite nervous and he couldn’t stop mumbling and muttering to himself.

At last, the guard stopped in front of the door that led to the council room and he slowly turned round to speak to Gandalf. “Since the King is discussing important matters of state with the generals and advisers, I’m afraid you will have to wait some ti…”

But here, much to his amazement, he was abruptly cut short by a very red faced wizard whose temper had completely run out at this point. “Trolls and hobgoblins!! I’ve had enough of all this suspense…” and with those words he shoved aside the guard, who was taken completely by surprise (not to mention the considerable strength which he couldn’t believe the ‘frail’ old man possessed), and opened the door to the council room, unceremoniously disrupting the meeting.

Now, if there was one thing that King Thranduil hated, was being interrupted. By the time the wizard reached the table where the King and the others were seated, he was glaring.

“I’m sorry, my Lord, I never expected him to barge in!” came the guard’s pitiful excuse which was met with an icy look that made him freeze in his steps.

“We will talk about this later Limdur,” said the King frostily. “You may leave us now.” And with these words the guard exited the room in silence, thinking about all the extra hours of duty he will have to suffer because of a cursed wizard!

As soon as the door closed, all eyes turned towards Gandalf who looked clearly agitated.

Thranduil spoke. “Well Mithrandir, if you could just wait outside, our council is not over as you can plainly see. We have important matters to discuss.”

“Well, I too have matters of utmost importance which must be discussed with you now…my lord Thranduil.” The last part he added as an afterthought, more to placate the growing ire of the King than anything else.

By now the King could barely contain his anger at the wizard’s annoying insistence. His lower jaw moved slightly out in visible irritation as he inhaled deeply through his nose. “Gandalf,” he said alarmingly slowly, “all your ‘matters’ seem to be of ‘utmost importance’…”

“Yes…and sometimes ‘a storm is just a storm’, but other times…well…it is not!” This direct reference to the discussion they had had just before the Battle a year ago, hit the nail straight on the head. For at the time Thranduil had mocked the wizard, saying he exaggerated things when the latter had mentioned the armies of orcs that were heading their way, only to be proved right the following day.

If there was another thing that King Thranduil hated was being proved wrong…and in front of his advisers and generals at that! He stood up, deceivingly calm, yet his eyes betrayed his anger and frustration at this wizard who always found the means to irritate him one way or another.

But Gandalf moved quickly. Before Thranduil could say anything else, he took out the necklace from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of him. “We need to talk about this!” he said.

“What…?” Thranduil was just about to speak when recognition shot through him like lightening. His eyes opened wide and he put his hands on the table for support. He was in shock and he wasn’t the only one. The other elves had seen the necklace before then as well. Their faces showed that they had also been taken completely by surprise by what Gandalf had brought. They looked at their King. His adviser, Lathron, looked especially agitated and urged Thranduil to sit down, whilst sitting down himself.

The King hadn’t spoken a word, his hands could barely find the strength to touch the necklace lying in front of him. Finally, he slowly turned round to look at the wizard. His voice was barely audible, “Where did you find this Mithrandir?” All anger dissipated, his eyes were now sorrowful, imploring, as all guard was let down and his innermost feelings were laid bare in front of all in the room.

“That, my dear friend, is quite a story and I think it would be better if you take Lathron’s advice and sit down, because I dare say that you will need all the strength you possess to listen to all I have to tell you.”

Gandalf started recounting step by step all that happened since Legolas, Tauriel and himself had left the palace. The generals were amazed at the audacity of the rangers to explore Gundabad and were also relieved to learn that the fortress had been abandoned after the Battle. The King sat silently, listening attentively, eyes fixed on Gandalf and holding tightly the necklace in his right hand.

Simple interest turned to wonder as Gandalf described the hidden passage and the underground room enveloped in elf magic. By the time he arrived at the part in which he described the enchanted sword and the secret door, there was dead silence in the room.

Gandalf’s gaze and warm, kind blue eyes never left Thranduil’s. He took a deep breath before he described how the rangers found her, “She was asleep my Lord, safely protected in a deep, enchanted sleep.”

General Drauchir’s voice could barely be heard. “My Lord Thranduil,” he said while he stared at the King’s right hand which was clutching the star necklace so fiercely that there was blood trickling from between his fingers due to its pointed edges.

The words snapped Thranduil into action. As he slowly rose from his chair, his look turned to one of extreme fury. He was livid. How did this wizard dare invent such a story? How could he? And finally he spoke, through clenched teeth “If this is some kind of joke…”

Gandalf stopped him. “Do you really believe, my lord Thranduil, that I would jest on such matters? Knowing what all this must mean to you?” replied the wizard as calmly as he could.

“But this does not mean that it is her. We’ve still got no real proof of …anything!” Lathron pointed out, visibly shaken, Gandalf noticed, almost more than the king himself, if that was even possible.

“Well, if that necklace isn’t proof enough, she is also in possession of a sword which, according to your son Legolas, is almost the same as yours my King,” continued Gandalf. 

“Legolas,” whispered the King, all anger drained from his eyes now to be replaced by hope. “Legolas has met her?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered the wizard, “and he was considerably perplexed by that sword, I dare say. He suggested that we should come back here and ask you about it.”

“Then why isn’t he here? Why isn’t she?” the King demanded. “Also, why am I not feeling the bond between us, if she is awake now?” Doubt and confusion clouded his eyes once more but Gandalf was once again quick to find a plausible answer. “I think the reason is harshly simple my Lord. She has lost all memory of what her life had been before she fell asleep.” These words echoed round the room as they sank in to all those listening.

It was then that Gandalf continued to fill them in with the rest of the story, of how the rangers brought her back to Dale, their meeting at Bard’s house, his visit to Erebor and his return to find them all gone. Although pressed for time, he knew that the King, (not to mention the others), needed to be filled in with all the details of the story, thus making it more and more real.

It was when he mentioned the village attacked by the orcs and how they were all heading there, that the elves’ eyes widened in alarm. Drauchir looked at the King, who wasted no time in giving out orders.

“Drauchir, Meldarion! Two hundred elves must be ready to leave in half an hour.” Both generals nodded at the orders given and left the room in an instant.

Thranduil looked at the wizard and provided him with a reason behind his actions; not that it was usual for the King to explain his actions to anybody, but this time he felt it was the right thing to do.

“This, Mithrandir, was exactly the topic we were discussing when you barged in. We have had reports that a considerable number of orcs was seen South, around the borders of the Running River. And, I’m afraid, that is not all…”

“They have a leader!” interrupted Gandalf, without waiting for the King to finish his sentence.

Thranduil sighed, giving up. “You’re right,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Yes. I am…most of the time!” grinned back the wizard.

But the King wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes were once again fixed on the necklace he was holding in his right hand. Only one word escaped his lips,

“Valadhiel”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate and thank once again all those who are leaving kudos and comment on the story.

CHAPTER 13

 

“Why did you come to Gundabad that day? What were you looking for?” Her whispered questions made Arahad jump, taking him completely by surprise. He hadn’t heard her approach, her footsteps as light as feathers upon the wet grass.

All the men had dismounted from their horses and were resting, scattered here and there across the meadow in perfect silence. Not a sound was to be heard in the deathly stillness of the night, which seemed to suffocate even the sounds of the insects and the night creatures, as it wrapped them in its oppressive blanket.

Bard and Legolas, along with Einar and Ceorl, had crept up the hill from where they could get a good observation position of both the village and the surrounding area on the other side. Legolas’ sharp vision was particularly essential in the dark night to make out the figures of the sleeping orcs lying about.

Seeing Arahad standing apart, a short distance away from the rest of the group, Star decided to approach him in an attempt to talk about what had happened during the festivities in Dale, for there had been no other opportunity for them to breach the subject since.

She was careful, as if treading on delicate shards of glass, for she did not want to hurt his feelings in any way. And in truth, she was also curious to know the reason why he had ventured all the way to that terrible place. 

He was standing up, leaning against a tree, eyes fixed on the point where Bard and the others were half hidden among the shrubs and bushes. He turned round quickly, locking his eyes in hers, while observing her beautiful enchanting face… Great heavens! It was difficult to put his feelings in words right now! Just looking at her features, slowly becoming clearer in the approaching dawn, made his heart leap with sheer joy and all he wanted to do right at that moment was to touch her face and kiss her.

But he didn’t move. Sharp pain shot through his chest as he recalled the kiss he had given her during the feast. It had started well. Although taken by surprise, she had kissed him back at first until she suddenly pulled away, eyes betraying deep sorrow and confusion. He had understood then that Star would never be his to love and cherish.

Yet it was excruciating! He had never felt like this about any other woman before…and now his task was simply to escort her back home, which also meant as far away from him as possible…

“Arahad?” she was looking at him, waiting for an answer to a question which he did not have.

“I don’t know,” he grinned, “Since even orcs are known to steal and hoard treasure from the places they pillage, I suppose I was on the hunt for some hidden treasure.” A treasure which I found, he said to himself.

“I can never thank you enough for what you have done,” she said, suddenly lowering her gaze. “I would not be surprised that it was the magic itself that led you to that cursed place, felt more once those dreaded creatures had left the building. If it hadn’t been for you…I shudder to think of what could have become of me if you hadn’t found me…lying there, asleep…forever!”

He could barely hear her last word, so softly had it been uttered. And then he saw them, tears running down her cheeks as a shudder ran through her body. He was taken by surprise, for he had never seen her look so fragile before and it took him a split of a second before holding her in his arms, resting her head against his shoulder. He stroked her hair gently, trying to comfort her until her soft sobs died down and she had calmed down enough to look at him.

“I am sorry!” she finally said.

“For what?”

“For my feelings. I cannot give you what you want.” She looked into his eyes, searching for forgiveness.

“Don’t! I must be the one to apologise for my actions. You were still confused and disoriented. I shouldn’t have kissed you that night but I was not thinking clearly. Must have been the wine…”

He smiled then. A false smile, for he knew that in trying to put her mind at ease, he had mercilessly brushed aside his true feelings and emotions.

And she smiled back, for reassurance, even though she knew deep down that he was not speaking the truth.

****************************************************************************************************************************************

Not a leaf stirred. Not a sound was to be heard at the break of dawn that day. The birds themselves seemed not wanting to intrude on the suffocating stillness that took hold over the river, valley and the surrounding hills. The men and the three elves were in position, senses alert and holding their breath, waiting patiently for Bard’s signal to attack.

Bard and the others had come down the hill with hope glowing on their faces for, apart from counting about forty orcs lying here and there in the meadow on the opposite side, Legolas had not only seen the old building which Einar had described earlier, but also discerned a human figure in one of the above windows. This meant that there really were some villagers still trapped in there.

The building was some distance away, on the other side of the plain, behind which lay the dark woods. It was high. There were no windows on the ground level and small ones on the upper level, just wide enough for a child to squeeze through. Because of this, the only way in and out of the building, was through the large wooden doors.

Einar continued to explain how thick and sturdy those stone walls and doors were, thus making it extremely difficult for the orcs to break inside. He also remarked that they must have tried innumerable times to do so, due to the branches and huge pieces of wood which Legolas said were scattered just in front of the door. This must have been utterly and completely useless without the aid of appropriate weaponry; for they needed a battering ram to cave those doors in. 

Yet, what confused all of them was the reason why the vile creatures had stayed there once they had realised that there was no other way in. Why hadn’t they moved on?

Well, it was no use pondering on that question now. The orcs were just about to be surprised by a brusque awakening!

**********************************************************************************************************************************************

Star crouched silently from her observing position behind a tree, her elf senses heightened by the tension and the surrounding stillness. She unconsciously gripped the hilt of her sword tighter as she let out a deep breath from between her slightly parted lips. Something was not right. This was too easy. Her sixth sense was restless like a tiger trapped in a cage, too small for her, waiting for the doors to open when she could finally break free and unleash her anger, a fury which had been kept too long at bay.

Suddenly her brow furrowed. Flickers of light were coming closer from the woods behind the stone building. What were they? She glanced sideways at Legolas but he had seen them too, and so had Tauriel. Her question was soon answered. They were torches, held by more orcs as they made their way to the doors. By now every other hidden soldier was observing their sudden movements and wondering what the orcs were about to do. Bard was worried, as their number increased.

The hideous beasts started shouting, waking up in the process the other orcs that had been lying asleep around the village. One of the creatures gave a final cry and moved forward, torch in hand. Realisation hit Star like a clap of thunder. Eyes open wide, her blood ran cold through her veins. In horror she watched it throw the torch at the pieces of wood in front of the door. They were going to set it on fire, leaving no way of escape for those trapped inside. They were all going to die suffocated and burnt alive!

This was too much for Einar, whose nerves snapped as soon as he saw the horrible scene unravel in front of his eyes. With one heart wrenching shout, he ran from cover in the direction of the building, followed a split of a second later by everybody else. All were fuelled by an anger and deep hatred for these fiendish creatures who enjoyed torturing the weak and defenceless.

Star was on fire. She had never felt so alive since she had woken up from her sleep. As she charged swiftly down the hill along with the others she knew deep in her heart that this wasn’t the first time she had taken part in a battle. Her heart pumped furiously as she ran straight for the first orc that dared cross her path. With one swift movement she ducked his blow, stood up and cut his arm right off as he was aiming for another. His shriek of pain was cut off as she sliced his neck from ear to ear, blood spurting in every direction. His dead body had barely touched the ground before she had massacred two others, ripping them open from belly to neck.

Her thirst for blood couldn’t be quenched. Running ahead, she was practically forming a path through the orcs heading their way, followed closely by Legolas and Tauriel. The men were being slowed down by other orcs attacking from the side. She was blinded by fury at what they were trying to do. Her aim was to reach the building and try to put out the fire as quickly as possible.

This proved to be an arduous task however, as more orcs came swarming from the woods. The men were fighting courageously, giving everything they had but she noticed, much to her sorrow, that some of them were mercilessly falling down under those hellish blades and blows. Arahad, Hamar, Tor and Odell kept together and were cutting through orc flesh a short distance away from the three elves.

She felt warm blood spray across her cheek as yet another orc was unceremoniously beheaded by her blade. She offered no pity for those daring to cross her path as she made her way up the hill; no remorse as her sword sliced through limbs and other parts of their body. It was only that lingering sense of falling into a trap that dampened her spirits. More orcs were coming from the woods. What had happened? By now they were equal in numbers, if not already outnumbered. Had they really set all this up to lure them into a trap?

It was then that a rain of arrows fell from the sky, killing most of the orcs at the top of the hill, nearer the building. What was happening? Confused, she looked sideways at Legolas.

“The Mirkwood elves!” he shouted above the din as he overtook her. Although she had no idea how many elves Legolas was talking about, she was relieved that help had miraculously arrived just in time.

Energy refuelled, she was just about to follow the young Prince of Mirkwood when a hellish, high-pitched shriek broke out through the valley, making the weak hearted shrink in fear.

Many stopped in their tracks as even the orcs themselves seemed to fall under its hypnotic spell. All eyes turned towards the woods as yet another creature emerged…one that they had never set eyes on before that day. What could only be described as the female version of an orc, came rushing forth as if she had been let loose from the deepest pits of Mount Doom. Wild, flying hair and deranged yellowish eyes was what first caught Star’s attention. The creature, double the size than the other orcs, sprang at Legolas who was nearest the building, catching him unawares. With one mighty blow with the back of her hand, she managed to strike him squarely across his face throwing him savagely into the stone wall.

“No!” Tauriel’s lament rang in Star’s ears as the red-haired elleth rushed in to stop yet another hit aimed at the dazed Prince, taking herself the full force of the blow that sent her reeling across the grass.

Recalling this scene later, Star would describe it as if everything fell into slow motion from this moment on. Her senses heightened to such a degree that made her body work to perfection, if that was even possible. Vowing to send this fiendish hag back to where she came from, Star ran towards her. Closely avoiding a blow, she slid under her massive hand, getting hold of Legolas’ sword which had been lying on the ground at her feet.

She handled two swords with ease. It came natural to her. Circling them in her hands, she flexed her muscles as she prepared to attack. It wasn’t going to be easy…the monster was fast, but she had to find a way to stop it!

Just at that moment more elf arrows were released, two hitting the creature on the shoulder. Letting out another high-pitched squeal she turned to face the elves. This was the moment Star was waiting for. In one swift movement she sprang into action. Using the creature’s knee as leverage, she jumped high enough to slash the she-orc across the chest making it shriek again, this time in agony. She then circled it swiftly, using both blades in her mission to maim the opponent, until the creature fell on one knee.

Star was just about to bury both swords in her when the she-orc reached out…a movement so sudden that it took her completely by surprise. Grabbing the elleth by the neck in a vice like grip, she lifted her off the ground. Opening her hideous mouth, she was just about to sink her yellow pointed teeth in Star, its aim to rip her in half.

But at this point Star was ready to combust. The fire burning inside her was consuming her as anger filled every inch and pore of her body. She was blinded by rage, lit up to a degree where she thought she was going to explode. She felt the heat and energy rising and leaving her body to spread all around. From between gritted teeth elvish words started forming which she had no control over. Yet she knew exactly what they meant, understood every single word she was murmuring. The elvish curse was aimed at not merely destroying but disintegrating the creature in front of her.

These words she repeated over and over again until she felt the beast easing her grip, eyes open wide in fear now as she felt that the battle was over and that she was facing death. Her hand let go of Star as it limped lifelessly at its side.

Men, elves and orcs stood still as they watched transfixed Star still hovering in mid-air, eyes fixed on the creature, mouth moving, muttering inaudible spells; when suddenly she slowly raised her hands to release a flash of blinding white light that ripped the hideous hag from the face of Middle-earth.

Star blinked at this point and dropped on the ground like a wilted flower, completely exhausted from the incredible energy she had exerted. She felt as if all her strength had been drained from her and was barely able to open her eyes as someone was holding her closely and calling out her name.

“Valadhiel!” came the voice again. Yes…she felt herself smiling…that was her name! She remembered now. She used all her strength left to open her eyes a fraction, only to find herself looking in the face of another elf with clear blue eyes. The eyes in her dream. She felt his tears wet her face as he hugged her closely to his chest, his head resting against hers. And she heard his words, “I am sorry. Please forgive me. I thought you were dead,” just before darkness enveloped her world.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

The news that the Queen was alive spread through Mirkwood Forest like wildfire. The King had sent two emissaries in advance to warn the healers that they were on their way back to the Palace. Faeron, the head healer, was particularly informed about everything that had happened to the Queen up to the point when she faced that monster during the battle.

The soldiers followed their orders to the letter, as if their life depended on them. They were still shaken and utterly perplexed with regards to what they had witnessed at that village. Thus they filled the healers in with all the necessary details and more, their tale increasing in length as they inserted more and more descriptions of how their warrior queen battled and finally had the upper hand over that foul beast. This recount was stopped here and there only by the exclamations of wonder of the healers, a couple of guards and some servant elf maidens who were listening with undivided attention to this incredible story.

The ellith went out of the healing wing and wasted no time in telling their ladies in waiting who in their turn reported the story to their lord husbands, who were eavesdropped by their valets…well, one can easily imagine how every elf from the council rooms down to the kitchens and stables got to know every detail and more in practically no time at all.

Excitement took hold over every elf in the Kingdom as everybody prepared for the arrival of their King and their long lost Queen. The younger elves, too impatient to wait any longer, decided to greet them along the road, even climbing up Mirkwood Forest’s highest trees, betting one another as to who would catch a glimpse of the Queen first.

************************************************************************************************************************************************* 

Thranduil held her exhausted body tightly and securely to him as he rode his horse back to the Palace. The rest of the elves, led by Generals Meldarion and Drauchir, rode some distance behind, in an attempt to leave their king some degree of privacy as much as possible. Both were shaken by the recent events, yet Drauchir could not tear away his thoughts from the last time he had seen Lady Valadhiel. He was still a soldier then, on that fateful day when she had entrusted him with her most precious possession…

The image of the ardent fire of strength and courage burning in her eyes, face lit by the moonlight and hair blowing wildly in the wind, had stayed impressed in his mind for many years to follow.. He had obeyed his Queen’s orders yet his heart could not forgive him for leaving her behind. It had taken him a couple of days to take the round path and finally arrive back in Mirkwood, only stopping to give just enough time for his horse to rest, then continuing on his course as if all the hounds of Mount Doom were at his heels.

Apart from taking the Prince back to safety, his aim had been to inform the King about what happened and try to reach Gundabad with reinforcements as soon as possible. He remembered arriving at the palace consumed with fatigue, using the last ounces of his strength to tell his distraught King where the Queen was and what her last words were.

Already on alert, Thranduil had sent forth his army immediately to wage war on that cursed Kingdom of Angmar. Drauchir’s vision blurred. They had fought like lions in their futile attempt to rescue the Queen yet it had been to no avail.

Drauchir had sought the King after the battle and was shocked by the change that had gone over Thranduil. His cold stare and overall expression were a hard wall aimed to bury beneath it his sorrow and heartbreak.

What Drauchir did not know was that back at the Palace, Thranduil had gone straight to young Legolas’ room. Picking his beloved child up from his cot, he held him tightly in his arms, the infant crying out at being awakened abruptly from his sleep. “She loved you so much!” he whispered in his little elf ears. And that was the last time the Queen was mentioned.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

The King looked lovingly at his wife, lying asleep in his arms and he could not believe his eyes. He kept on repeating to himself that this was just a dream and that he was about to wake up brusquely and face again the harshness of the cold world he was used to seeing every day. But he didn’t. His eyes kept on gazing, loving, admiring, whilst she continued to sleep, safe in his arms.

The birds were singing. He looked up at the trees and the bright sun high up in the sky. A lovely, beautiful, extraordinary day! He quickly looked back down, almost afraid that in the split of a second which took him to observe the beauty of the forest, she would have vanished, snatched cruelly away from him again. But no! He smiled, invisible grateful tears in his eyes…she was still there, wrapped in his arms…secure from all evil.

Unbelievable was the memorable moment he had seen her fighting abreast their son! In shock he had watched her making her way up the hill, his heart missing a beat as he felt himself thrown back to the days when they faced battles alongside each other. Incredulous he saw her coming face to face with that spawn of Mordor and vanquish it, worry enveloping him once again when he saw her fall unconscious to the ground. 

He hadn’t allowed anybody to touch her. Since her fight with the orc, he had been the only one to carry her, trusted only Legolas with this task for just enough time to mount his horse and then demanding her again…harsh, possessive.

He felt guilty now as he recalled how his son had looked at him then. Shocked, baffled, hurt. Legolas’ eyes showed these emotions and more and he could only offer a few words of comfort to his son at the time. “Come, ride by me,” he had uttered gently, for he himself was feeling the same confusing emotions.

Thranduil looked sideways, eyes instantly locking into Legolas’ clear blue ones, so much like his own. Knowing he finally had his father’s attention, the Prince began, “Is she…is she really…?”

“Yes! Your mother is beautiful, isn’t she?” Interrupting him, Thranduil looked back at her.

Legolas could not explain his feelings now. It was the first time he had heard his father mentioning his mother. It was strange. Surreal. Not only did he mention her, but he was holding her as well! How many times had he longed for her embrace as an elfling? And hear her voice as he grew up? Seeing this elleth lying in his father’s arms, knowing that she was none other than his own mother was incredible. A miracle.

Of one thing he was certain. He liked her. Her reasoning, her calmness, her strength, her anger. A lot has happened these last couple of days, small gifts of instances which gave Legolas the opportunity to get to know this elleth before realising she was, in truth, his own mother. His Nana. He grinned, thinking about how she had put him in place at Bard’s house.

“Would you care sharing your thoughts with me?” Thranduil demanded of his son.

Legolas told him then about everything that had transpired when they first met. His father unexpectedly laughed. “Don’t worry son, she did it to me as well. The first time she caught me looking at her, I had to avert my gaze first. It had never happened to me before that day. It was at that moment when I realised that I wanted to know everything about her.”

“Was it difficult? I mean, winning her over…?” Legolas was curious now.

Still smiling, Thranduil let out a sigh. “My son…you have no idea!” And shaking slightly his head he looked back at his sleeping wife, bending forward to plant a delicate kiss on her forehead.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Arahad held the reins tighter, knuckles turning white as he saw the king kissing her. His dark eyes clouded, both in anger and deep sadness. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air to compensate his heart from threatening to stop pumping any minute now. It was extremely painful. My goodness, he had tried not to get sentimentally involved. He had even admitted it to her. Now he realised that he had only been fooling himself, hoping against all hope that she would change her mind and choose to be by his side.

What a fool he had been! How did he get so deeply involved? Heavens! She was not just any elf maiden! Did he have to fall in love with the Queen of Mirkwood?

“You’re a man. She’s an elf. A combination that would have led to heartbreak…one way or another.” Bard’s voice of reasoning intruded his thoughts and it annoyed him. He did not want to listen. “If she hadn’t been who she is, and decided to choose you…you would have spent a lifetime together if fate willed it.”

“And would it have been that bad?” Arahad snapped at his friend, now irritated, knowing full well that he was not going to like where Bard’s talk was heading to.

Bard continued calmly. “Once your time in this world was over, hopefully due to old age my dear friend, she would have stayed on, slowly fading away from solitude and a broken heart.” He stopped at this point and faced Arahad. “Now tell me..is that what you wanted?” Bard’s tone was both calm and rational.

Arahad looked confused now, anger replaced by realization. These thoughts had never crossed his mind. He might be strong willed and hard headed but no one could call him selfish. He would never bear it or live with himself knowing that he would make her suffer, even though unwillingly.

He looked ahead, eyes fixed upon the King’s back. He understood then, that if he really loved her, he had to let her go.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

“A coin for your thoughts,” Gandalf winked before blowing rings of smoke and then placing his pipe back in the corner of his mouth again.

“I’m feeling sorry,” Tauriel’s face was serious.

“For what, my Lady?”

“For myself first and foremost. The words I told the King just a year ago keep on echoing in my mind, sneering at my stupidity.”

“I told you once again not to be too harsh on yourself,” admonished the wizard kindly. “Mistakes are committed by everyone, and that includes the King himself who built walls and detached himself from everyone else to avoid suffering again.”

“I heard him on the battlefield…calling out her name and trying to reach her.” She looked at Gandalf and then back towards her King. “I had never seen him like that.”

“Nor have you ever seen him like this, I would add.”

But these words struck a chord which made Tauriel’s eyes fill with regret once again. “No love in you,” she whispered, “that is what I told him, angry as I was in seeing him leave the battlefield that day!”

“Will you do yourself a favour and stop punishing yourself for nothing? You told me that you spoke those words in time of anger and sorrow. Yes, you’re right, the King might have been furious with you then, but what happened afterwards made him change his mind.”

“Listen to me my child,” he continued, giving her an encouraging smile in the hope of making her feel slightly better. Tauriel looked at him, a tear falling down her cheek. “Have faith when I tell you that the King has forgiven you a long time ago!”

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Forgiveness… 

He paced around his dark room like a trapped animal. His brow beaded in perspiration and wringing his hands in desperate fear. What was he going to do? He would never be forgiven for his terrible deed! Valar, where could he go? When the King finds out what he had done, there would be no place on Middle-earth safe enough for him to hide!

He was terrified…and he had all reason to be…

How could she still be alive? Evil enchantress! Curse her and her magic!

But wait! He stopped suddenly. She’s still asleep they’re saying, her magic too strong to be adequately controlled for now…and the wizard said that she couldn’t remember anything. Maybe…his eyes opened wide, blind, unseeing…maybe there is still hope that things will go back to how they were before!

And, consumed in his own insane thoughts, he left the room slamming the door behind him.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

 

The King was adamant. He had no intention of moving a step away from the bed on which they had laid the Queen to rest. Not wanting her in the healing wing, he gave orders for her to be settled in her rooms as she should rightly be.

Faeron let out a sigh. He had to find a way to make him leave. Both of them needed to rest so as to regain their physical and mental strength. The Queen had not recovered totally from the deep sleep at the time when she had used her powers during the battle. Faeron knew nonetheless that this might have triggered a positive side-effect. Such an exertion could aid in regaining her memory. But he kept all this to himself for now, not wanting to raise Thranduil’s hopes.

The King, on the other hand, was clearly emotionally drained. Of course, this was only evident to Faeron’s keen eye both as healer and also because he had known the King for countless years; for Thranduil’s countenance remained as tranquil and calm as ever. Yet the look in his eyes betrayed all this. A lot had happened in one day. The possibility of the Queen being alive had changed from dream to reality within a couple of hours. He was still in shock and he needed to rest.

Faeron decided to try a different approach. “I heard she disintegrated the orc spawn to little pieces,” he said as he slowly placed his medicine bottles, healing herbs and other things he required on the small table next to the elegantly ornamented four poster bed.

“Like tiny particles of dust!” Thranduil smiled proudly as he looked at the healer. “She wiped it right off the face of Middle-earth.” He was sitting on the bed, never for one moment letting go of her hand.

“That must have required a considerable amount of strength and effort on her part. She definitely needs to rest as much as possible if we want to help her recover. The blinding light she managed to summon must have drained her vital energy.”

“I’m not leaving this bedside if that is what you are subtly suggesting!” Thranduil’s words were spoken harshly and took Faeron by surprise.

He knew he had to insist but he was at the moment lost for words at seeing his king’s reaction. He could not imagine how difficult it was for Thranduil to tear his gaze away from his wife and let go of her hand. He was a healer. His job was to do what was necessary. If this meant separating them he had to find a way to do it, although the king was making this task extremely difficult.

“Faeron is right Ada. She needs to rest…and so do you.” Legolas’ voice made Thranduil turn round to face his son who was looking at him, visibly concerned. “She is with us now. She won’t be going anywhere.” Legolas smiled and his face lit up. Walking towards the bed he continued, never taking his eyes away from the sleeping Queen, “we have guards right outside her door and a healer will be next to her bed at all times. She is safe,” he said reassuringly.

Thranduil looked back at Valadhiel, lying serene and peaceful on the soft bed, chest moving slowly in deep restful breaths. Then, much to both Faeron and Legolas’ surprise, he bent over, whispered inaudible words in her ear and stood up. His son was right. What could happen? And he needed some time to regain his composure as well.

“I will leave her in your hands then,” he said to Faeron, before turning round and striding out of the room lest he should change his mind.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Legolas followed his father to his private chambers, situated right next to those of the Queen. Once inside, he started helping him remove his armour and place it on a nearby chair. All this was done in silence, each of them enveloped in one’s own thoughts. It was a comforting silence nonetheless, helping to create a peace in the room which hadn’t been felt for a very long time.

Thranduil knew that they had drifted apart throughout the years. What he could not understand at first was how it came to be. He had always given Legolas all the love and guidance he could possibly provide, had always wanted the best for his son. It was because of this that Legolas’ first reaction when he had confronted Tauriel shocked him to the core. How could he have been so blind as to his son’s deep feelings for her? He sighed. These thoughts and everything they implicated wearied him but he could not ignore them any longer. Today, as they were coming back to Mirkwood, finally holding his wife in his arms, he realised that he had to speak about this matter to his son as soon as possible.

Remaining in his dark black tunic, Thranduil moved towards a table on which there was a crystal glass decanter and matching glasses. He poured some wine in two of them and offered one to his son, who accepted it gladly. Both of them needed a good drink of Dorwinion wine to wash down the tumultuous events of the day.

It was Thranduil who broke the silence. “We were in time of peace. Our army was getting back to its feet after the great losses we had suffered during the great war against Sauron. Orc attacks were few and far between. That year the harvest was exceptionally bountiful and I gave orders for a great feast to be held and a duelling contest to be organised.”

“The elves all around the realm were ecstatic to say the least. Everyone was looking forward to some means of distraction, including myself if I want to be honest.” Thranduil smiled at his son, who was unsure as to where his father was heading to with this story, yet he smiled back and sat down on the couch, eager nonetheless to listen to the rest of it.

“A considerable number of ellons took part in the contest, along with a couple of ellith as well. There were many whom I had met before that day, some even worked here in the Palace but, since there were a few new names on the list, I decided to go down to the training fields to greet them and wish them luck.”

Thranduil paused, eyes unseeing, fixed on nothing in particular. His lips curled into a smile as he recalled that day. He went to sit on the couch next to his son, relaxed, taking another long sip of wine, before placing the glass on the low table next to him. Resting his head back, he looked upwards at the gem studded ceiling.

“It was then that I saw her…and I recognised her immediately…that same elleth who had won our staring contest almost a year before! I had tried in vain to look for her after that event, but she had simply vanished into thin air. And now, when I least expected it, she turns up out of the blue, with her beautiful face, her blue grey eyes, braided warrior hair, wearing those fitted…” his voice trailed off, reminiscing. 

“Those fitted…?” Legolas’ prompting made Thranduil turn round to see him grinning mischievously, one eyebrow raised, waiting impatiently for his father to continue.

“Don’t be impudent! You know very well what I’m talking about!” He scolded half grinning, “She had just effortlessly disarmed an elf whom she had been practising with. Her skill with the sword was unmatched. As I moved closer I remember another elf asking her who she was going to the festivities with, to which she haughtily replied that she will go out with the first ellon who succeeded to disarm her during the contest.”

“And? What did you do then?” Legolas urged his father to go on, curious now as to know more about his parents’ first meeting.

“I turned round, signed up for the contest and went to practise. I would have been damned before I lost that duel!” He stopped, taking another sip from his glass.

“Who won?”

“I did. But I must admit that it was one of the most difficult fights I had ever fought. First, because she was a sight to behold. Her fighting attire had already put me off balance before she was attacking me on all fronts. I spent the first five minutes defending and admiring her agility and overall fighting techniques.

I think she was fooled into thinking that she could actually win the match, so my sudden attack took her completely by surprise. I was merciless. Good as she might have been, I was better and a far more experienced warrior; and I was not going to leave that field defeated. The price was too high! I was determined to win as if my whole life depended on it…and it did, in a strangely ironic way.

I had to win the match if I wanted to win her over. At one point she made the mistake of moving in closer than necessary.” He smirked, self-satisfied, “I tripped her. She fell over and I disarmed her before she realised what had happened. You should have seen her expression as I pointed my sword at her, eyes open wide in astonishment. Beautiful!”

“Well, I bet she was as astonished as I was yesterday when she disarmed me!” blurted out Legolas, finishing his glass of wine.

This news made the King sit straight in attention. “Did you fight with her?” he asked concerned.

“We were just practising. It was then that I noticed her skill with the sword and that there was a high possibility that she might be a Mirkwood elf.” Legolas stopped, his mind wandering to the other things she had said afterwards.

Thranduil noticed immediately his son’s hesitation to continue. Something was bothering him. He waited patiently for some minutes, his gaze open and understanding, inviting his son to finish what he had to say.

“I started explaining to her that there were various kinds of elves, living in different parts of Middle-earth. The discussion then moved on to the difference between the Silvan and Sindar elves in this realm.”

“Tauriel was present as well.” Legolas stood up, tormented. He turned round and looked at his father, sorrow transpiring from his bright blue eyes. “Ada,” he continued, “I have never felt so uncomfortable saying that I am a Sindar elf!” 

Thranduil was shocked at hearing this, but he did not feel angry at his son’s admission.

“What amazed me were Mother’s words. She looked surprised and said that she saw no difference between me and Tauriel!”

An uncomfortable silence permeated the room, broken only by the King’s steps as he stood up and walked towards the balcony doors, looking out over his beloved forest. Finally he spoke those words that had been mercilessly weighing on his heart for a year now.

“As you very well know, I have favoured Tauriel for hundreds of years.” He paused for a few moments before continuing, “I don’t know if you have realised by now, as the reason for this is very clear. The warrior in her spirit and the defiant energy in her eyes reminded me frequently of Valadhiel.

Still, when I noticed that your interest in her was changing and becoming something more than friendship and simple admiration, I wasn’t pleased.

What’s strange is that I shouldn’t have been surprised since she resembled your mother in character so much. However, I was blinded. Wanting the best for you and thinking I was adhering to what your mother would have wished, I believed that you had to pledge yourself to another Sindar elleth…”

“What did you do?” Legolas’ voice was broken, disbelieving; not wanting to hear what his father had to say, yet urging him on, imploring, “What did you tell her? Look at me!”

Thranduil turned round to face his son. He knew that this moment would have come sooner or later. His expression was tense but his eyes betrayed the grief he was feeling at the thought of being rejected by Legolas.

“I told her not to give you hope. It was only when I saw you defending her and when she was crying over the body of that dwarf that I understood how wrong I had been. Love is love. Pure and simple. It has no boundaries, no limitations of age, race or other.”

He stopped, hesitant, before asking the question that had been tormenting him. “My son, will you ever forgive me?”

Legolas looked at his father. He could not deny the fact that during his father’s explanation, he had felt angry and hurt. He had interfered in something which could now be lost forever. But his father’s openness and sincerity had taken him by surprise. His father had really changed, considerably, this past year. He loved, respected and admired him.

Legolas moved closer to him. Looking into his eyes, three words escaped his lips, “I forgive you,” before being warmly embraced by the King.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

 

Legolas had to find her. He wasn’t going to wait until the following day. He had waited long enough. Although irate at first about his father’s admission, he was surprised how these feelings were replaced by calmness and joy as the pieces of the puzzle slowly moved into place. No wonder she has always been so elusive whenever he approached her! How could she dare give him hope after being confronted by the King?

He quickened his pace until he arrived breathless in front of her door, knocking before changing his mind. Silence. He knocked again a couple of times but still he was left standing there, facing a closed door. There was nobody inside. Where had she gone at that hour? Night had fallen for some time now. Maybe she was on duty? But no! Guards who had just come from battle were exempted from guard duties.

Then where could she be? He was becoming impatient. Patience was a virtue which hadn’t been inherited from father to son it seems. He was bursting with excitement which he tried to suppress under a façade of calmness and false composure, but waiting outside her door was making him more and more frustrated as the minutes ticked slowly by. 

 

He looked up through a large glass door at the end of the corridor which led to a balcony overlooking the side of the mountain. Legolas could see the bright light of the full moon and the beauty of the stars casting long shadows behind the ornaments and sconces that adorned the corridor. It was a beautiful night, almost as if nature itself was blessing the kingdom for the wonderful gift which had been returned to them.

Legolas opened his eyes wide as he smiled to himself. Of course! Tauriel wouldn’t be buried in her chamber on a night like this! He turned on his heels, heading towards the gardens. He knew where to find her now. In his haste to arrive there as quickly as possible, he paid no heed to a couple of ellons he met along the way, merely acknowledging them with a slight nod as they bowed their heads to the Prince of Mirkwood wondering where he was going in such a hurry.

By the time he arrived in the gardens he was so excited that his search for Tauriel was desperate and needy. He headed immediately to her favourite spot in an open clearing near a gurgling spring which further down ran to meet the forest river. He tried to control his feelings as he approached. He knew he had to tread carefully and that he should not have high hopes.

Tauriel had been through a lot. Her relationship, if one may call it so, with the dwarf, was short lived but intense. He had not only seen it with his eyes but felt her deep anguish at Ravenhill as she held Kili’s body close to hers. The time has come now to see how deep her affection had been. And this time her sentiments would not be refrained by his father or interfered with by anybody else.

Tauriel heard him approaching and recognised his footsteps immediately. “My Lord Legolas,” she greeted him with a smile as she stood up from the stone bench she had been sitting on. Her face was lit up and her eyes twinkled in the harsh light of the moon and stars. Legolas held his breath. Speechless, the first thought that crossed his mind as he looked at her was that she was positively radiant, basking in the light of the stars she loved so much.

“How is she?” she inquired, visibly eager to know how the Queen of Mirkwood was faring.

“She is still asleep. Faeron believes that she needs to rest as much as possible to allow her body and spirit to heal completely. He insisted that she must not be disturbed by anyone, so only one healer is allowed in the room to check on her until she wakes up.”

Her brow furrowed. “But there is still something bothering you, isn’t there mellon?”

Her simple question and that one word pierced his heart. Friend. Will she ever think of him only as a friend? He took a deep breath and sat down on the bench which she had been resting on just a few minutes before. “It’s father,” he continued, “I don’t know for how long I can keep him away from her chamber. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him pacing outside her doors when I go up.”

He looked at her and smiled. “I have never seen him like this Tauriel. There is a light in his eyes which wasn’t there before. It is both very surprising and welcoming. He had never spoken about my mother before and today he told me how they met and how he felt the first time he set eyes on her. He didn’t say much…but I could feel the love and intense emotion as he remembered that day.”

Tauriel cast down her eyes as she sat next to Legolas. Then, without warning, tears started streaming down her face as she grabbed the sides of the bench tighter, trying to control the sudden emotions which were threatening to overwhelm her.

“ ‘There is no love in you,’ that’s what I told him…’no love in you’” she repeated staring blankly at the brook and trees opposite, “…when all he did was protect his people…I wouldn’t have blamed him if he never forgave me for what I did!”

Legolas was shocked and taken by surprise at hearing her talk like this. He would never have guessed that she was still blaming herself for what had happened a year ago. His heart went out to her. Gently holding her shoulders, he turned her round, facing him. Lost for words, he started to wipe away her tears and then, holding her chin with the other hand, he moved in closer until their lips touched into a sweet kiss.

Yearning deeply for love and comfort she didn’t fight it at first, until she suddenly realised what was actually happening and, as if she had just been woken up brusquely from a dream, she jumped back and stood up, hands touching her trembling lips.

“No!” she almost shouted. “We shouldn’t…you mustn’t! I’m not…” her voice trailed off, incapable of finishing the sentence.

“…a Sindar elf?” Legolas’ eyes confronted hers. “Tell me, sweet Tauriel, is that what you were going to say? For if it is, it does not matter anymore.”

Tauriel looked confused, so Legolas continued. “Please listen,” he said as he stood up; but he did not move any closer, wanting to give her some space, afraid she might run off without giving him time to explain why he had come looking for her. Tauriel wasn’t an elleth who ran away from a fight or duty but this situation landed her in deep water. He had to reach out without frightening her, but it was entirely up to her now and grab the hand he was offering.

“Father told me about his warnings and he regrets this. We know that he has favoured you among others for many years and now I know why. He admitted tonight at how much you resembled my mother in character. Your words and actions that day made him see what he had been trying to run away from all these years since my mother was thought to be dead. He has forgiven you for your actions that same day Tauriel. Now the question remains, will you ever forgive yourself?”

Tauriel stared at him, surprised, unbelieving. These words, coming from Legolas’ mouth, informing her of what had transpired during the conversation between him and his father, brought such overwhelming relief that she had to take a deep breath just to brace herself and remain standing upright. But Legolas wasn’t quite finished yet. His next words took her by surprise.

“But will you forgive me, Tauriel?” He said, his crystal blue eyes filled with pain.

“For what?” she looked confused. “You have done me no wrong!”

“Yes, I did! I left you at a time when you needed me most. Jealousy and self-pity took over that day. I was angry and wanting to distance myself from you as much as possible I just…left.”

“Jealous? You were jealous of Kili?” Tauriel’s eyes opened wide as she finally understood Legolas’ actions and behaviour at the time.

“Terribly. I could not stand that dwarf, watching how he was gradually taking you away from me. I should have stayed, but I was so blinded that I just left without bothering to see how you were coping with the loss…But I regretted my decision every single day since then. And that is why I came back.” He grinned, tentatively.

“Well, your thoughts were misplaced!” She said quietly as she made a step forward. “I loved Kili for his kind heart, so open to love that it made no distinction between elf and dwarf. My heart broke when he died and I blamed myself for his death as well, even though I had done everything I could to help him.

But I didn’t bond with him. I could not. Although I had felt very strong feelings for him, and it hurt terribly to see him like that…my heart kept looking elsewhere…” She hesitated before continuing, “…at what I was warned would never be mine!”

Legolas felt a sense of elation rushing like a whirlwind inside him. His heart was pounding so fast in his chest that he thought it was going to burst. Tauriel’s clear green eyes betrayed now her true feelings for him and with no other doubt or obstacle to hinder them any longer, they fell in each other’s arms sealing their love with a passionate kiss under the light of the moon and stars.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Tauriel had never felt like this before. It seemed as if she was flying. Her steps were so light, her feet barely touching the ground as she headed back inside, towards her own chamber.

At one point she stopped to catch her breath. Resting against the wall, she blushed and her face illuminated with a beautiful smile that radiated a mixture of emotions. Joy, relief. Her mind went back to what had taken place in the garden just moments before. She bit her lower lip as she remembered the kiss and Legolas holding her in an embrace so tight as if he was afraid she might run away.

But she didn’t move. Her stillness and look in her eyes reassured him that that was the place she wanted to be, right there in his arms. They were made for each other…had always been. With finally no more obstacles to keep them apart, that moment left them lightheaded and breathless.

Tauriel smiled again as she remembered the absurd excuse she gave him to disentangle herself from his embrace and leaving him there to regain his wits, making hurried promises that she would see him again the following morning.

It was with these sweet thoughts going through her mind that she ran round one sharp corner and bumped headlong into another elf heading the opposite way. The force was such that apart from keeping his balance with much difficulty, he dropped the object he was carrying on the marble floor.

Tauriel was distraught, especially when she saw that it was Lathron, the King’s advisor, whom she had so clumsily crashed into. She knew that even though it was an accident, he was going to take it badly. Lathron had never been friendly, but his attitude towards her, after getting to know what had happened during the battle, had changed into one of disgust and loathing. She saw it in his eyes, his cold stare always a constant reminder of her actions and mistakes. Tauriel knew that he could not understand how his beloved king had forgiven what he considered a treacherous and insignificant elleth such as her.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, you stupid elleth?” It was not the words themselves, for she had expected that outburst, but what Tauriel was not prepared for was the unreasonable hatred in his tone of voice.

Trying to placate his fury, she reached for the golden bracelet that he had dropped in their collision. However, her actions were stopped short by his sudden vice like grip on her wrist, holding her back.

“Don’t touch it!” he hissed, looking coldly at her, freezing the blood in her veins. And with those words he quickly picked up the piece of jewellery, wrapped it in a cloth he was holding and marched off down the corridor, leaving Tauriel staring at him and wondering at what had just happened.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

 

Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked a couple of times before closing her eyelids once again, wondering where she was. The bed she was lying on was so soft, warm and welcoming that she almost wished that she could just drift back to sleep and continue dreaming of the forest, the lake, the battle, Legolas and those crystal blue eyes…

Her eyes shot open. That voice…she hadn’t been dreaming…he had called out her name…yes…Valadhiel! The indescribable feeling of remembering one’s own name! She caught her breath as a tear streaked down her cheek. Oh, Valar! And the sound of his voice calling her on the battlefield had made her feel so safe and loved…yet, who was he? For what frustrated her most now was that she could not remember anything else. Just her name.

But she wasn’t giving up! Determined, she wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and started to observe her magnificent surroundings. For glorious they truly were. The ceiling was of a dark blue hue and decorated with gems to begin with, giving the illusion of a star-studded sky. She loved it immediately and it brought a smile to her lips.

All the pieces of furniture in this room were made of wood and intricately embellished with the most exquisite designs of branches and leaves. She had never seen anything so perfect and beautiful…wait…probably she had and she didn’t remember! This thought made her grin and all the more resolute to try and recall her elusive memories. Her hands made circling motions on the silken sheets she was resting on. She closed her eyes, her mind wandering…lovely to touch…fit for a queen…

“My Queen…you’re awake!” the soft voice came forth from a very surprised elleth who had appeared suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, and was standing at one of the two doors that led out of the chamber.

Valadhiel felt a mixture of emotions going through her. First she was startled as if she had just been caught sneaking and spying at someone else’s belongings. This feeling quickly turned to annoyance as she hadn’t felt nor heard this young elleth approach. Maybe her senses are still a bit numb after what she’s been through? And finally shocked…

“What did you just call me?” Her voice was authoritative, questioning. Did this elleth just call her ‘queen’? Valadhiel sat slowly upright and beckoned her to come closer to the bed for she seemed rooted to the spot. But Valadhiel’s movements seemed to snap her out of her astonishment and let the healer in her take over.

She rushed towards the bed. “No, please my Lady, no sudden movements…how are you feeling? Here…have a sip of water and let me call Lord Faeron…he wanted to be sent for as soon as you woke up!” It is safe to say that she said all this in one breath, eyes never leaving Valadhiel’s, revealing feelings of utter astonishment and wonder.

Valdahiel politely accepted the glass of water handed over to her, trying to keep back a smile as the elleth stared at her wide-eyed and positively awestruck. 

“Did you just call me ‘queen’?” she said softly.

“Yes, my Queen, I did.”

“So, am I Queen of…this place? Where am I?” she continued calmly.

The elleth looked considerably confused at this question. “My Lady, as much as I would like to answer your questions, I think it would be better if I follow my orders and send for Lord Faeron first.” Bowing slightly, she started moving towards the door.

“Wait! Is Lord Faeron…the King?”

“No, my Lady. He is our head healer.” She then exited the room but Valadhiel could not mistake the hint of disappointment and sadness in her voice.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Faeron rushed back to the Queen’s chamber as fast as he could without attracting unnecessary attention from the elves that were already busying themselves with their respective chores at this early morning hour. Most of all he did not want the King to be alerted just yet, feeling it necessary to check on Queen Valadhiel himself before she had any visits.

But the look on Tuarwen’s face as he approached her doors wasn’t encouraging at all. “She looks physically well, my Lord, yet I fear her past is still clouded in darkness.”

He nodded, dismissed the healer, and knocked on the door. The firm reply coming from behind the closed door startled him and shook him to his senses. He had been so busy tending to the Queen since her arrival and through most of the night that he had unconsciously put aside the close friendship he had had with her.

Without wasting another precious moment, he went in to be welcomed by her sweet smiling face. Sitting on the bed, her face looked slightly anxious but there was no hint of recognition whatsoever. He sighed, bowed and moved closer to the bed.

“I am Lord Faeron, my Lady,” he paused when he saw no reaction, “the head healer.”

She bowed her head slightly. “And I am Valadhiel my Lord, although I am afraid that is all I can remember.” He smiled encouragingly. Her voice was strong, determined. Some other elleth would have been crying or even close to hysteria. But not her. Well, it was no surprise…she had always been one to face adversity with her head held high.

“Do not burden yourself with that my Queen. I am quite certain that you will regain your memory sooner or later now that you are back home. But we must not force things. Tell me, do you feel anything different since the battle? I am asking you this because you have used considerable magical power before passing out.”

“A slight headache…but that is all I think.”

Faeron nodded but did not voice his thoughts that it could be the start of a snowball effect resulting in her regaining her memory. He asked permission for him to examine her and change the few bandages from around her neck where the orc had held her.

He was so intent in his job that he did not notice Valadhiel’s close scrutiny but her next words surprised him, making him look up hopefully from what he was doing. 

“I know you…you are very familiar…but I cannot really remember…yet I have this strange feeling that we have met before.” She waited expectantly for an answer.

“You are right. We did.” He smiled, undeniably happy. “We grew up together. Val, I am your cousin!”

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Following Hamar along this labyrinth of passageways, corridors, rooms and bridges that made up the magnificent Woodland Palace, proved to be not a good idea after all. The four rangers, along with Bard and Gandalf, had been invited to Mirkwood by the Elvenking himself. Arahad was aware that he wanted to ask them questions and know all the details concerning the discovery of the Queen.

Bard, on the other hand, knew that King Thranduil was urgent to discuss military affairs with him after the strange happenings that they had witnessed at the fishing village. It was vital for them to be well prepared for the evil that might arise. Mirkwood, Dale and Erebor must set up their defences taking into consideration this unusual turn of events. Bard realised that after his audience with the King, he would have to report everything back to King Dain.

So, after being served a scrumptious breakfast (very much to Odell’s liking, one must say), the elf on duty announced that they had to follow him to the council room. Bard and Gandalf had already left some time before; but Arahad was not that ready to oblige. Although the talk with his friend Bard had made him see sense, up to a certain extent, he felt that uncontrollable need to check on Star. Thus, after politely thanking the elf in question, and reassuring him that they knew their way to the council room, they set off in the opposite direction.

Their faith in Hamar of knowing the right way was soon lost after the second or third wrong turning he took. They never found the Queen’s chambers yet they managed to walk past the armoury, the Throne Room (impressive!), the Great Hall, the kitchens, the gardens and even saw the passageways which they bet would have led down to the wine cellars and finally the dungeons.

Although lost and completely disoriented, they were left in awe and under the spell of their magical surroundings. It was amazing how all of this was found inside a mountain. Instead of being dull and gloomy, everything was made brighter by the myriad of torches found everywhere and holes in the high ceilings which let the light in to be subsequently reflected by huge gems scattered above. The effect was mesmerizing. The Elvenking’s Halls were indeed a sight to behold!

They finally found a passageway which took them up to the higher levels. The staircases became wider and the designs on the doors and the stone pillars were more elaborate, an obvious sign that they were nearing the royal quarters. 

It was at this point that Arahad felt it…this sudden uneasy feeling which was very difficult to explain. It sent a shiver down his spine and made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. It was familiar to him, not the first time he had sensed something of the sort. A negative energy, to put in simple terms, usually surrounding a person…someone who was in the vicinity.

Alert, he could only see a couple of elves busy with their daily chores who seemed far from threatening. Then, just as they turned round a corner, he was surprised to come face to face with Legolas.

The Prince looked surprised and clearly annoyed. He had been looking for them for quite some time now. “Where have you been?” he asked in irritation. “You were sent for to come to the council room quite some time ago. The King is waiting for you.”

“Yeah! Well…we got lost!” replied Hamar, which was not exactly a lie.

But Arahad was not ready to give up yet. “And we wanted to see how Star is. Could you direct us to her chamber?”

“That is impossible! She is still sleeping and Lord Faeron hasn’t allowed anybody inside her room,” Legolas replied firmly and then continued in a much softer tone, “Not even my father.”

“No hard feelings if we insist my Lord Legolas,” put in Tor, “but you must understand that we are concerned and we just want to visit a friend.”

With these words Legolas looked at them squarely in the eyes. “In that case you should realise that as for myself, I cannot wait to see my mother…yet I still follow the orders given and I am asking you to respect them as well!”

Arahad had expected him to be angry when he got to know their real intentions for arriving late to the meeting. Legolas’ words on the other hand, were spoken with both kindness and sincerity. The ranger could not help but notice also an underlying tone of sadness in his voice. 

That one word had made him realise that he was not speaking to just another elf. Great Heavens! This was her son, her own flesh and blood! And it was this thought that made him see Legolas in a completely different light. It was because of this that he gave up his mission for now and nodded to the Prince in agreement.

Satisfied that they had understood the delicate situation, Legolas beckoned them to follow him. He stopped in front of the great double doors that led to the council room; but just as he was about to go in, he was stopped by Arahad.

“I know this may sound strange, but do you recall seeing anybody else walking along the corridor just before we met you?”

Legolas raised an eyebrow at this question. “Just a couple of guards. Still I was not really paying attention as I had some important matters to discuss with one of the King’s advisors.”

And with those words Prince Legolas entered the room followed by Hamar, Tor and Odell, leaving Arahad deep in thought outside.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to all those who are leaving Kudos and comments on the story. I appreciate your insight and opinions.

CHAPTER 18

 

“We are not talking about a small insignificant band of orcs here, one which we could have easily toyed and done away with. As you have very well witnessed at the village, they have joined forces to be controlled by yet another fiendish creature!” The Elvenking’s tone was low as he uttered these words, but everybody heard them clearly due to the dead silence in the great room. For under a deceptively calm exterior, his annoyance at the latest occurrences transpired all too clearly.

“What I fear most Mithrandir, is that this is no mere one off incident,” the King continued, slowly pacing towards the balcony overlooking the great forest of Mirkwood. Deep in thought, his eyes scrutinized the horizon, almost as if he was trying to perceive the danger lurking in the distance and annihilate it there and then.

He then turned round to face all in the room. “We must be prepared militarily for what may yet to come!”

“You have the alliance of all the men in Dale, my Lord Thranduil,” said Bard, “along with King Dain of Erebor, I might add. I am persuaded that they would heartily agree in preparing ourselves just in case a similar threat arises. The King under the mountain has been more than helpful and generous with us this past year. No sooner shall I return to Dale then I will send word to him about your propositions and our agreement.”

Bard looked straight at the King. “I am sure that, once again, united we will withstand the darkness. In the end, light will finally prevail!”

Arahad felt proud of his good friend as he entered the room and hearing him utter those words to which those present nodded and voiced their agreement.

Yet his grin slowly faded as he noticed that not all seemed to be in accordance with what was being said. One particular elf carried a grim smile on his pale elvish face which one could remark seemed almost to be made of marble. The ranger sensed his heart was dark and it did not reflect the mood of courage and hope that everyone else was caught in.

Arahad was immediately wrapped up once again in the same feeling of uneasiness that he had sensed before, when he was outside in the corridor. His eyes clouded in deep thought. Who was this elf whose aura was so unclear and almost…forbidding? The people he had met in his life who possessed a similar one were thieves and murderers, so it was perplexing for Arahad to feel thus towards an elf. Elves could be very dangerous and merciless with their enemies yet he had never met one who was evil or cruel. Could he be mistaken?

He averted his gaze but promised himself to keep a close eye on him during the rest of his stay there.

Arahad moved towards the great wooden table at the centre of the room, around which all the others were seated. He was so intent in observing his surroundings and the view from the windows and balcony, which he could almost swear reached out all the way to Erebor, that he didn’t notice he was being addressed by none other than the King himself.

It was Hamar’s kick under the table that brought him back to Mirkwood Realm with a loud, “Ow! What the heavens did you do that for?” And turning sharply round he noticed that everyone around the table was looking at him, the King with a raised eyebrow.

“Mmm…yeess…my Lords and,” looking at Hamar, “the rest,” and he nodded, not really knowing what they expected from him.

Gandalf coughed, as if something had just blocked his throat and he wanted the passage cleared. “Arahad,” he said slowly, “King Thranduil wants you to tell him how and where exactly the Queen was found.”

Why did Gandalf look slightly uneasy? Was he afraid he’d make a scene? Well, he’ll be served… “Then why doesn’t King Thranduil ask me himself?” he replied cockily, his eyes never leaving the wizard’s, as if they were the only ones in the room.

The question was received with different reactions from those seated. Bard’s mouth opened a fraction, Hamar shifted in his chair and looked at his feet, Tor and Odell glanced sideways at each other while Legolas’ eyes opened wider. The rest simply glared at him. Only one remained expressionless. The King sat straight in his chair, not a single movement disturbing his almost waxen features.

The question was aimed to insult and Gandalf knew very well the reason why. He almost felt pity for this reckless yet courageous young ranger. Talking about the King as if he weren’t even there… Let’s just hope that having brought the Queen back, Thranduil had mellowed enough to take this with a pinch of salt!

“Why did you go there?” The King’s exceedingly calm voice broke the silence with one direct question which, although seemingly straightforward, there was much to be read between the lines. Arahad was young but in no way a fool. He knew very well what Thranduil was inferring at. His gaze shifted from the King to the wizard…and back again. He let out a breath which he had just realised he had been holding. These two were too old to be fooled…most probably they already knew the real reason why he had insisted so much to go to Gundabad. His mother had told him it was a gift. Yet there were many times when he felt that it was more like a curse than anything else. It was an intense feeling…a sixth sense which he always felt compelled to follow…even though he knew it would lead him to peril. But he could not help it. Every time he had to go and find out what was the reason behind it.

Being ‘caught’ by these two did not help to improve the foul mood he was already in. It was for this reason that he could not avert what happened next.

“My Lord, most probably he was lured to that place by imaginary treasures hidden within,” mocked in disdain the sour faced elf he had noticed earlier.

Arahad’s anger was channelled through the piercing gaze he gave the stunned advisor. “Then I consider myself lucky of having found a priceless gem!” The words were out of his mouth before actually thinking of the repercussions they might involve. A deafening silence filled the room. Nobody could doubt the true sentiment he felt. His heart had spoken and there was no turning back. His gaze turned to Thranduil once again but the King’s look was difficult to decipher.

At this precise moment the door swung unceremoniously open and Lord Faeron came in, grinning from ear to ear. “The Queen is awake my Lord!” Barely had the words been spoken than Thranduil was out of the chair and rushing out of the room.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

She sat quietly at the dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Who was that elleth looking back at her, with perfectly braided hair wearing elvish attire? She looked so different…who was she? She looked…regal, yes…yet she felt anything but! Tuarwen had suggested she wore some jewellery from the box that lay open in front of her but she had refused. Although extremely beautiful, she felt as if they belonged to another…not hers to touch or wear. Everything was strange. Nothing felt familiar.

During the little time she had spent with Faeron, he had tried to describe some instances which they had spent together, in the hope that they might shed some light in the darkness but, although she still felt that slight lingering headache, nothing was recalled. Nothing.

Head held high, she tried to be brave. She had felt no fear on the battlefield, slashing through orcs and ugly creatures, so why was she anxious now? She looked at the balcony. She almost felt like running away. She didn’t want to see him. Felt too afraid to face a husband she does not know…a husband with whom she had a son…Legolas. She smiled. That haughty, courageous prince! Her son. She inhaled deeply before her smile faded as she thought about the anger she had felt when the horrendous fiend had attacked them. But she tried to remove these ugly thoughts as they threatened to make her headache worse.

She was startled by the knock on the door. “Come in!” she said steadily as she stood up.

Thranduil entered the room. On his way there Faeron had explained to him that although Valadhiel looked physically well, she still could not remember anything of her past. He had nodded, half listening, his main purpose to reach her as quickly as possible. But now he felt at a loss.

She was as beautiful as he remembered her, wearing that dress in her favourite colour. Although trying incessantly to forget her and the void she had left in his heart, he could never escape his dreams which she frequently invaded with her delightful smile and blue grey eyes. Oh sweet Arda! Was this yet another vision? His instinct told him to go and hold her in his arms but the look in her face stopped him.

No recognition. Nothing. She had no idea who he was! Her eyes, from which he had been so used to receive love and comfort, pierced his heart like a sharp blade and he clenched his fists in an attempt to ground himself. 

He smiled, trying to ease the tension between them, “Valadhiel, I am glad you are feeling better.”

“Thank you, my Lord. Would you like to sit down?” she said, pointing to a couch which was near the glass doors leading out to the balcony.

He nodded in agreement and went to sit down, eyes never leaving hers, almost afraid that she might vanish if he looked away. He was suddenly overcome by the same feeling he had had the first time they had looked into each other’s eyes…no shyness, no averted gaze but curiosity and…courage.

He decided to break the ice by discussing a subject which he was certain she would find interesting. “You fought well on the battlefield.” A simple remark which made her grin, fill her eyes with energy and warmth and continue the conversation as if they had been talking for ages. She spoke about her movements, her actions and feelings as she was facing those creatures, the anger and helplessness she felt when those fishermen came to Dale for help, the culmination of her fury when she had to fight the she-orc and how she sensed and dealt with all the magic that was coming from within her.

Thranduil nodded, smiled, putting just one word here and there, urging her to continue her recount, which she shared with so much passion and enthusiasm. All he wanted right then was to keep on listening to her sweet voice but he was swiftly brought back to reality with one simple question.

“Have they gone back to Dale?”

“Who?” Although he knew very well to whom she was referring.

“Bard, Hamar, Tor, Odell and..Arahad.”

He did not miss her slight hesitation before voicing the last name. What was going on? As he recalled Arahad’s words and overall outburst in the council room, the smile faded from his face. Unlike him, she knew these men and from the worried expression on her face, she was fond of them.

“Are you upset?” she asked him, concerned.

He smiled. No, my dear, jealous and angry would better describe the mood I’m in right now. But he kept these thoughts to himself as he continued, “They have all been invited to stay here at the Palace.”

Her broad smile at this news killed him as he could not help comparing it to the distant way she had greeted him. But his face gave nothing away. Instead he took something out of his pocket, “I brought you this.”

Her eyes gleamed when she saw that in his hands he was holding the star necklace.

“Let me help you put it on.”

She slowly turned, her back to him and started pulling up her golden hair. In these few moments he drank in her smell, her shoulders and long neck. It took all his strength not to give in and kiss her neck right then.

“You know,” she continued, “when I could not remember my name, Arahad suggested that it should be Star, and I liked it immediately. It felt familiar.”

Him again.

“Do you want to know why it sounded so?” His voice was almost a whisper, close to her ear. Thranduil brushed his fingertips gently against her neck as he closed the clasp and put the necklace in place. “Every time I had to leave the Kingdom I always told you the same words, ‘You are my North Star, for you show me the way home.’”

But Valadhiel wasn’t listening. She had fallen unconscious the moment itself that he had touched her.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! Since I am going to be very busy next week I thought you might like to read another chapter...enjoy friends, kudos and comments are welcome xo

CHAPTER 19

 

“Are you out of your mind?” Bard’s words were spoken harshly, yet more out of concern for his friend than in anger, considering the circumstances they were in. “I thought that I had made myself clear on our way here!” He continued, getting no reaction from Arahad. “What are you trying to achieve by this? Unleash the King’s wrath?”

Still no response. They were in Bard’s room, the first safe place where he had managed to half drag Arahad as soon as King Thranduil left the room and the council was clearly over. They were not alone. Gandalf had come with them, he was not done yet with this proud but courageous and intriguing young fellow.

Seeing that Bard was getting no answers to his questions, the wizard moved away from the door and walked towards a small table on which lay a bottle and some glasses. “Wine, anyone?” he piped in merrily. “This Dorwinion is excellent and I think we all need to calm down and clear things out.”

He took a chair and moved it closer to where Arahad was standing. “Now, are you ready to tell us the real reason why you went to explore Gundabad?”

“Why are you asking me, if you already know the answer to your question?” came the ranger’s reply, eyes set in annoyance and frustration.

“Because I want you to say it out loud,” said the wizard calmly, “I assure you my young friend, that you will feel better once you take this burden off your chest.”

“Can one of you enlighten me on what is going on here, if you don’t mind?” Bard seemed clearly confused, looking from one to the other, having no idea of what they were talking about.

Arahad picked up the glass he had been offered and drank it in one gulp. It was immensely difficult for him to open up on this matter. He had never told anybody about this before. His mother had been the only one to know, urging him, even on her death bed, to keep it to himself for fear that he might be scorned at or ridiculed, or worse, dismissed as insane. People tend to resort to this whenever they are faced with things that they cannot comprehend.

Still, he had to admit that she had lived a very secluded and uneventful life in the small village of men he had been brought up in. Magic, strange creatures and other races belonged only to children’s tales. It was only when she died and he left the security of the village to explore what was beyond, that he realised that they were, in fact, real.

Standing here now, in this room, deep inside the Elvish Kingdom, a couple of days after battling orcs and talking to a wizard, made his power seem not only smaller, but almost insignificant, making it much easier for him to face the subject. Hmm…he looked at the empty cup he was still holding…or maybe it was the wine that made him see things in a different light? It was really good. He grinned.

Arahad looked at them and started explaining to Gandalf and a rather baffled Bard, his sixth sense, if one had to give it a name. He told them of when he had first felt it as a young boy, how he had opened his heart only to his mother about it, and to nobody else until today. He explained of how it had to do with situations and places…how he kept on thinking and even dreaming about a place until he went there to explore and see for himself what was going on.

This was what had made him go to Lake Town a year ago; and he admitted to an incredulous Bard how it had been days, or rather nights, of him dreaming and having visions of fire before arriving there. He then turned towards Gandalf.

“I could not take Gundabad off my mind. Day and night it kept calling out to me. My sensitivity towards magic kept turning me in that direction…until I answered that call. I felt there was no danger and I knew that I would find something there…although I had no idea what or in this case, who.” He let out a sigh.

Gandalf had been listening attentively to Arahad’s every word that had come forth from his mouth. He didn’t miss his sigh, nor his sad tone at the end of his story. Thus he wanted to choose his words carefully for he did not want to cause him any grief other than necessary. However, although it was difficult, it was crucial for him to understand.

“My friend, you have got an amazing gift, a gift which can no doubt bring with it extreme happiness or great sorrow. You have been most admirable in this quest, for you have brought back great joy and happiness to a kingdom which had been robbed of it so cruelly many a century ago. Because of what you have done, all the Kingdom of Mirkwood will be grateful to you, especially the King himself.” Gandalf stopped here, stood up and moved toward Arahad before he continued.

“Yet kindness must never be underestimated. Arahad, and I am speaking to you clearly now, make no mistake that gratitude can easily turn into wrath if the King senses you might be an obstacle between him and his Queen; for keep in mind my friend, that she is first and foremost Queen of this Realm and his wife.”

Arahad was feeling his irritation surfacing again. “I know that!” he snapped, gesturing at Bard, “We have discussed this already.”

“We did?” Bard replied sarcastically. “Strange! After what I heard in the council room I doubted any of my advice had actually entered that thick head of yours!”

“What do you mean by this?” said Arahad, looking puzzled.

“What?” Bard rolled his eyes. “Have you already forgotten the words you used to describe her, as soon as the King’s advisor mentioned hidden treasure?”

Both Gandalf and Bard were surprised to notice that Arahad looked sincerely bewildered by what he was hearing. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I felt too angry at what that weird elf was saying.”

Gandalf narrowed his eyes, no detail escaped his scrutiny. “And why is that, may I ask?”

He looked at them. “Sometimes my gift has to do with people as well, so let’s just say, for now, that I don’t trust him!”

In the light of what Arahad had just told them, this statement, which would have otherwise been easily dismissed, left both of them perplexed and wondering what it would lead to.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Valadhiel cringed as soon as she woke up, for her headache was considerably worse. She put her hand against her temple trying to ease the terrible tension inside. What had happened? The last thing she remembered was sitting on the couch talking to the King and then…nothing. She must have passed out.

She moved her head sideways, only to find Tuarwen sitting on a chair beside the bed and smiling sweetly, “You should drink some water my Lady.”

Valadhiel nodded and smiled back. She slowly got up and swung her legs to one side of the bed to settle in a sitting position, gladly accepting the glass being offered.

No sooner had she finished than she stood up feeling restless. The room seemed small somehow and she felt that she couldn’t wait to go out and breathe in some fresh air. She moved resolutely towards the door but was stopped short by Tuarwen’s high pitched panicked voice.

“What are you doing my Lady? Both the King and Lord Faeron have left instructions to warn them as soon as you are awake. They both insisted that you should not leave the room before Lord Faeron makes sure that you are well enough.”

She stood up straight, looking coldly at the elleth, a hand already on the door knob. All she had to do was turn round, open the door and leave. She just needed a breath of fresh air to feel better and ground herself from what was going on. But she knew that as soon as she stepped outside, the guards would try to stop her, and she did not feel like arguing and being difficult. Valar! This room was getting smaller and oppressive by the minute!

“Please, my Lady!” pleaded the healer, “They are very worried since you have fainted so suddenly and for no apparent reason.”

Valadhiel looked at her. It was not fair and no use distressing this poor elleth for her irritation. It was not in her character. Yet determination certainly was. She smiled as a plan formed in her mind.

“Listen Tuarwen, I promise not to set foot out of this door if you go and get me something to eat before calling anyone. I am feeling rather famished to say the truth.”

Valadhiel could see the elleth’s face brighten up and she almost felt sorry for the way she was going to trick her.

“Of course, my Lady. I’ll be back in an instant!” And with those words she left, closing the door behind her.

No sooner was she gone than Valadhiel turned her attention towards the balcony. She had already noticed that some of the branches of the enormous beech tree outside reached as far as the wooden railing and it took her no time at all to use them so as to descend swiftly onto the grass below.

Finally! She did not understand why but she couldn’t endure those four walls any longer. She felt almost as if they were softly suffocating her and it was strange, now that she thought about it. She had felt nothing of the sort earlier this morning. On the contrary, the beautiful room offered nothing but comfort from the moment she had woken up. So what was this desperate urge to leave? Strange.

She wandered further away, started walking along a narrow path winding among the trees, enjoying the soft, dry grass under her bare feet. She smiled, for in her hurry to get away from there, she had completely forgotten to wear any shoes. But it did not matter now. She continued walking, her feet moving as if on a will of their own.

It was mid-afternoon, the forest looked welcoming at this time of day, covered in all the different shades of green one could possibly imagine. But she didn’t stop. As if by enchantment she continued on her way, feeling as if she was being lured somewhere, leaving her without any will to do otherwise.

She soon arrived near an open space in the middle of which stood a great oak tree. She stopped and looked around. Everything was tranquil, peacefully quiet, the beauty of nature almost surreal in its perfection. Yet Valadhiel felt far from content at this point. A growing feeling of anxiety started building up inside of her which she had no control over. She understood by now that her actions since she had woken up had been determined by no will of her own. She was under some sort of spell which had slowly but consistently brought her here, a spell which was growing in intensity with every passing instant. By now, worry was slowly turning into fear.

She looked down at her hands and it was then that she noticed it. A golden bracelet. Where did this come from? It looked like a sort of plait…but wait…looking at it closely she realised that the shape was that of three intertwined serpents.

“I hope you like my little gift!” His cold voice broke the silence. Her eyes opened wide as she saw him. He had been lurking in the shadows behind the tree, like the snake that he was. He looked at her, eyes filled with malice, mouth curled up in a hideous grin.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry it took me a couple of weeks to update but life caught up and I was extremely busy. Thanks so much for all your comments xoxo

CHAPTER 20

 

He moved closer, away from the shadows, until he came to stand in front of her, his features etched clearly now in the light of the late afternoon sun. Valadhiel inhaled slowly as a shiver ran involuntarily down her spine. She wouldn’t have felt like this in battle, where she could use her sword to defend herself and attack the enemy. This time it was different. His eyes penetrated hers like daggers, full of loathing towards her as she realised that she was completely at his mercy.

Still she tried to remain calm and hide her feelings from him. She did not flinch, nor move as he inched his face even closer. “When did you put this on me?” Her eyes locked defiantly into his as she uttered these words.

“Ah! So it seems you haven’t lost your arrogance…my Queen!” he replied scornfully, before adding, in a darker tone, “While you were sleeping. Fooling the healer to get her out of the room was easily done and it took me no time to slip unnoticed into your room from the balcony next to yours…”

“But why?” Valadhiel cut him off. She wanted answers. She deserved them. What had she done to instil such anger in an elf? Then, as an afterthought, she decided to try another path, reasoning with him.

“You are still in time to set me free from this curse. They must have already noticed my absence by now. I give you my word that…”

“Your word?!!” he spat the words angrily, leaving her stunned. “The same word you gave me once? When you promised you would do anything within your power to throw me out of the council and possibly banish me from the Kingdom as well?”

His fists were clenched so tightly that for a moment she almost thought that he was going to strike her. His eyes were open wide now, delirious, filled with such hatred towards her that she could not fathom what could possibly have caused all this feeling of angst against her.

“All I wanted was my King to be safe,” he continued, “he had already been through so much in his life! Why should he and the rest of the kingdom get involved in matters and problems of other lands? They were not our concern until you came along!

He changed then. He was so blinded by the spell you put on him that he could not see the dangers and what he was risking. I tried to reason with him but it was to no avail. Since he met you he did not heed my counsel anymore. You turned him against me!” he accused.

“YOU…and all your nice talk about helping other inferior races!” he snarled, “Could you not see that we were putting ourselves in danger every time? Were you so arrogant to not perceive this?”

He paused, grim faced, eyes flitting desperately from side to side. Then his voice lowered to a whisper before he continued, remembering horrible deeds that would have been best had they remained hidden. “That is why I hid the wounded soldier’s letter asking for our help! Yes!” Once again his eyes focused on her. “All those villagers died that day…but all of our kin were saved in their stead! Yet you didn’t care. When you got to know of this you accused me of being cruel and heartless and threatened to tell everything to the King! I was no fool. I knew that I had long before lost his trust and was very much aware with whom he was going to side. It was necessary to act quickly. I had to find a way to get rid of you once and for all!”

The consuming energy that went through her body right then felt as if she had just been struck by lightning. She still couldn’t move a muscle yet the pressure in her head was gradually increasing for, as he was speaking, she had sudden flashes of memory that were struggling to come to the surface. She was also starting to realise, to her horror, that the events which had led her to Gundabad that fateful night had something to do with him.

As if reading her mind he continued in a high-pitched voice filled with malice, “Yes Valadhiel, it was me! I knew that the Northern borders of the Realm were dangerous and that our scouts had spotted a large number of orcs in the area. That was why I made you believe that the King was going to take that path on his way back from Imladris!”

He grinned maliciously, seemingly content to relieve himself of his dark thoughts and foul actions, boasting in front of this elleth who had come back to torment him and disrupt the harmony in his Kingdom. She hadn’t been the only one. Last year it was that meddling Captain of the Guard…that lowly Silvan elf did not deserve to be in that position…but his ongoing counsel with the King and continuous suggestions for not interfering with what was going on outside the borders, hadn’t gone unheeded…

Still he had, like all the others, noticed the change in the King and now, with her here again…he shuddered to think of what the King would do if she remembered and told Thranduil about his treason.

“But we are running out of time, my Queen. We have to move on.” And with these words he circled around her and started walking deeper into the forest. She followed him, her mind unable to control her movements, her body having a will of its own, bent under this elf’s powers.

She did not utter a word, it was no use fighting against the insanity that was gnawing away at his reasoning. Instead, she focused every ounce of her energy on one thing…the power of her mind, in the hope that someone might listen and be able to stop this madness.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Tauriel had woken up at the break of dawn. She had spent all morning doing errands before heading straight for the fields for some archery practice. She was unsure as to how she would react when she meets Legolas again. It is true that yesterday she had been blissfully euphoric at the sudden turn of events, yet now, delving on things in the bright light of day, made her slightly apprehensive of what this relationship might entail.

She had known that she was not going to meet Legolas that morning, probably would not see him until late afternoon. She had heard from Tuarwen that the council was over because the Queen had woken up. She had felt relieved, happy to know that she had regained consciousness, yet word spread soon after that she could not remember anything and that she had fainted once again when she was with the King.

Walking towards that same spot where she met Legolas last night, she inhaled the fresh spring air, enjoying the tranquillity of the forest around her. She sat on the bench and, closing her eyes, she tuned in her ears towards the variety of sounds that belonged to that particular place…the rustling of the windblown leaves, the gurgling brook, the song of the birds, the…her eyes shot open. She stood up, catching her breath.

She looked around her, confused and understandably disoriented. Where did that cry for help come from? There it was again…almost as if it was coming from deep inside her mind. But this was impossible! And the voice sounded so much like that of the Queen! It was insistent, urgent. Something was greatly amiss, but what was she to do?

She was almost going to run back to fetch help when she heard Valadhiel’s voice once again. It was not only very clear but sudden images began forming in her mind. The glade. The great oak tree. The path of the wild rose bushes. The sound of the rushing river… She was giving her directions and Tauriel knew exactly where to go!

Snatching her bow and arrow quiver from the bench, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her in the direction of the river. The rose path led to a waterfall which was outside the gates that marked the borders of the Elven Kingdom.

What was going on? Wasn’t the Queen supposed to be in bed, protected by the guards? She felt anxious and knew that she needed to act quickly…the Queen was undoubtedly in some sort of danger, the urgency in her voice betraying her usual calmness. Seemingly in no time at all she reached the river bank and, hidden among the dense foliage, she scrutinized the opposite side. She did not have to wait long for, just a few moments later, two figures came out into the open, heading determinedly towards the water’s edge.

Tauriel was surprised to see that the Queen was not alone. Surprise that turned to confusion when she recognised the other ellon. What was Lathron doing with her?

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Against her will, Valadhiel’s steps took her slowly but steadily to the very edge of the rocks. Glancing at the river below, she saw the water rushing by as it headed further on to a waterfall crashing onto the rocks below, only to gather up speed once again as it continued on its way towards Esgaroth, otherwise known as the Long Lake.

She was afraid. How was she going to save herself? It was difficult fighting against the speed of the water and the undercurrents as it is; but, completely controlled and subdued under this terrible curse, it would definitely be hopeless. A certain death. She had not regained control over her magical powers yet. In any case, it would have been useless. She knew that to uplift the curse, she needed someone to take off the bracelet.

She felt tears of desperation welling up in her eyes, threatening to burst forward and run uncontrolled down her cheeks, but she held them back. Jaw clenched tight, she was never going to give that satisfaction to the serpent standing behind her.

She closed her eyes as she felt waves of energy surfacing from deep within her, filling her body and bursting inside her head. These same feelings of utter helplessness were not new to her! She remembered that she had been through such terrible moments once before in her life…

Flashes of memory came startlingly back like claps of thunder in a still, frozen night. Glimpses of images started unfolding in front of her as she recalled the flight from the orcs, hopelessly riding towards Gundabad until finally placing her beloved child in the hands of Drauchir. Legolas. She sighed. This time she could not keep back her tears as she vividly saw the image of a sweet blond little baby, looking at her with bright blue eyes, tiny pointed ears and small fisted hands; and while she headed towards that dark place, her heart had shattered to a million pieces…

His ice cold voice invaded her thoughts once again as she slowly turned round to face him. Elves stood apart from other races, being older and thus much wiser. They could be described as ethereal beings, gracing Middle Earth with their strength, beauty and harmony. Still, the foul creature standing in front of her now was an exception. She did not know whether it was her imagination or if her mind was playing tricks on her but, to her, his face was ugly and distorted, his outward features and characteristics reflecting his much darker inner spirit.

“It is over my Queen,” he hissed, “It is finally time to say goodbye, once and for all!” Grinning triumphantly he added, self-satisfied, “They could search the forest, the mountains, villages and cities for you…never guessing that you are lying lifeless in the depths of the river, swallowed by its waters.”

Ire quickly replaced self-pity as Valadhiel watched disgustedly his self-satisfaction as his plans unfolded just as he had intended. If she was going to die, she was not going to leave without him hearing the last words she had to say.

“Legolas was with me that day.” Watching his shocked look as he realised that she was starting to remember, she calmly continued, “Both of us could have died. Tell me, were you ready to kill us both? Was this how you wanted to show your loyalty to your beloved King? By killing those he cherished most?”

She sadly grinned, still intransigent although knowing her fate. Bent but not broken, she was satisfied to notice from his furious face that her words had found their mark.

“Enough!” his voice was shrill now, at last losing his composure. In a split of a second, he lunged forward, holding her tightly from both her arms. “You finally get what you deserve!” And with those words brimming with intense loathing, he pushed her back into the foaming waters.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

 

Hidden from sight in the dark shadows of the trees, Tauriel stood silently watching the scene unravel in front of her eyes. She had been greatly alarmed at first, the urgency and insistency of that call leading her to believe that Valadhiel was in imminent danger. She stopped in her tracks, and thus from making herself noticed, as soon as she saw the Queen speaking calmly to the King’s advisor.

The voice and images in her head had dissipated now and Tauriel was left guessing that Lord Lathron must have probably heard it too and had come to the aid of the Queen and any peril she might have found herself in.

Yet, she did not leave. That lingering feeling that there was something terribly wrong was still there, tugging at the back of her mind. Focusing on their faces, her elf eyes could distinctly discern the Queen’s features covered in sadness. Why? Why was she so upset? Had Lathron told her something? Maybe something that had to do with her past? Why wasn’t he taking her back to the Palace? As soon as the Queen turned round she reverted her attention back to Thranduil’s advisor but was greatly disturbed to notice the malicious grin on his face. Valar! What was happening? Should she intervene? Alarm shot through her body. There was something amiss in this picture although she kept on reassuring herself that the Queen could take good care of herself.

It was with all these questions running through her mind that Tauriel witnessed in shocked silence what happened next. His voice rang clearly in her ears as he viciously pushed Valadhiel into the river and, without a second glance, disappeared back along the path they had come.

The initial shock quickly turned into action as a moment later she was running swiftly and nimbly along the riverbank, eyes glued to the foaming water as she tried to catch a glimpse of Valadhiel. Blocking out all questions as to the insane actions of the King’s advisor, her main focus was to get the Queen out of the water. But where was she? Panic rose with every passing second until she finally saw her head bobbing out of the water for a second or two before disappearing again to be sucked into the undercurrents, dragging her directly towards the waterfall. 

Without wasting precious time and regardless of the danger, Tauriel jumped in. She saw her again, very close, her aimless journey hindered by the contact she had made with a big boulder that lay in their path. Thankful for this, Tauriel swam towards her using all the strength she possessed. Almost within reach, Tauriel stretched out her hand for the Queen to hold on to yet, although she had seen her, Valadhiel did not make any movement, only her eyes betraying shock and horror.

Confused at having missed this opportunity, Tauriel braced herself to face the waterfall. Down they went, both of them, sucked into a vortex of frothing waters to be released some distance further down in much calmer currents. Tauriel surfaced inhaling huge gulps of air, breathless from her water ride. Anxious, she desperately looked around for her queen but she was nowhere in sight. This meant that she was still underwater and the elleth lost no time in diving again, searching its depths.

It was then that she saw her, or rather the luminescent light which was emanating from her body, a light which she also noticed was slowly fading as her eyes were closing, succumbing to the darkness. Tauriel grabbed her hand and pulled her to the surface and then painstakingly to the pebbly river bank where she dragged her away and onto the grass. Pulling her up to a sitting position, Valadhiel threw up all the water she had swallowed and closed her eyes, resting safely in Tauriel’s arms.

Relieved that she was well and out of danger, Tauriel held her close, ready to defend her Queen should further need arise. Looking around her the forest was still as dusk had come to reclaim yet another day. 

The Queen’s touch made her look down once again as she saw Valadhiel’s eyes wandering from her own down towards her hand, around which there was a golden bracelet. Tauriel looked at it as recognition dawned on her. She had seen that bracelet before. It was the one Lord Lathron had dropped when they had bumped into each other in the corridor. As she effortlessly unclasped it from around the Queen’s hand, she heard Valadhiel gasping before emotionally whispering her gratitude.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

“Where is she?” His voice was like thunder which Legolas could swear must have rumbled throughout the whole Kingdom. Thranduil looked fiercely at both Drauchir and Meldarion, expecting an answer to his question which they did not have.

Both generals were lost for words, knowing well that their King’s level of patience had long been surpassed. “Speak!” He continued, hands crossed, his tone less harsh but still menacing and intimidating. “She shouldn’t have gone far in this short lapse of time!”

Silence. It was Drauchir who finally plucked up enough courage to speak. “The soldiers searched everywhere my Lord. No stone was left unturned, both inside the castle walls and the gardens. At this moment guards are being dispatched to search the borders and the surrounding lands. My King, you have my word that we are going to find her!”

“I had your word that you were going to protect her once, hadn’t I?” Although these words were spoken more out of desperation than to hurt his loyal and faithful general, Lord Drauchir felt as if a knife had just sliced through his heart.

“Father!” Seeing Drauchir’s downcast eyes and shocked expression, Legolas felt the need to intervene so as to placate somewhat the King’s growing anger…an anger that was fuelled none other than by fear and frustration at the recent turn of events. Where had the Queen gone? Why had she left? Legolas understood that these were precisely the questions that haunted his father right now and all he wanted to do was to try and reassure him.

“Waiting here leads us nowhere,” he finally said, “I will join in the searches and this time we could start with the most perilous places even though they are further away. Thus they would be the first to be ruled out.”

Legolas looked encouragingly at his father. He could see the pain lying just beyond the ice cold surface. He knew him too well. “Fear not Ada, we will find her!” he said reassuringly.

With jaw clenched and pursed lips the King nodded, accepting Legolas’ suggestion whilst turning round to face the open balcony door overlooking Mirkwood forest. Anxiety tugged mercilessly at his heart. The Greenwood had changed considerably throughout the years. It had become much darker and sinister, no longer safe to tread its paths, especially at night. Even though she was a strong fighter, it was still dangerous, being alone and unarmed… where are you my sweet Valadhiel?

Just then the doors of the council room burst open to let in Gandalf, Bard and the rangers with Arahad at the lead. “Any news?” It was he who spoke, his face betraying a mixture of emotions that was difficult to decipher. 

“No,” came Legolas’ dejected reply, evidently disappointed that they were not bringing any good news either. “We were just about to leave and search for her further down South as well as along the river.”

Arahad was confused. What could have happened? They had been talking in Bard’s room for quite some time when they heard the commotion and the strong raps on the door demanding immediate entry. Dread turned to fear as soon as the soldiers informed them of what was going on, before continuing with their thorough search of every room. Although Arahad and the others had tried to help in every possible way, his level of anxiety continued to rise with every passing moment. She had no reason to leave. Something must have happened and he was certain that it had something to do with that elf!

Nodding at Legolas, he was just about to follow him when they were both abruptly stopped by Gandalf. “Meldarion can take the South borders, while Drauchir can lead the search along the river. I believe that it would be more important for you to stay here and discuss with the King the matter which we had been talking about before we were interrupted by the guards.” And with these words, spoken gravely, in that particular tone of voice which showed to those who knew him well that he had highly important news to impart, the wizard locked his gaze with that of the Elvenking.

“Is there something I should be made aware of Mithrandir?” Thranduil’s words rolled out of his mouth as smooth as silk but his tone hinted at his irritation and his overall countenance instilled a coldness in the room which was felt by everyone present. His eyes never leaving those of the wizard, he continued, “Well? Say it Gandalf…I know you will…as much as I am certain that I won’t like it!”

The rangers and Legolas looked visibly confused at this sudden verbal exchange between the wizard and the King. Arahad felt as if he had just been turned into a stone statue, unable to move a single muscle. His breathing much slower, taking in long deep gulps as if the air in the room wasn’t enough to fill his lungs. His secret was about to come out and he was not ready…although, thinking about it, he will never be, so might as well get this over and done with as soon as possible.

But it was not Gandalf who spoke. Bard, the voice of reasoning, intervened as usual at exactly the right moment. “My Lord Thranduil, this is for me very incredible and difficult to put in words; it being, I must confess, even for me very extraordinary to comprehend and finally accept. Still…” he moved forward and, putting his hand on Arahad’s shoulder, he continued, “I completely place my faith in my friend here…and I believe in him and all he has to say. He is a true, honest and loyal companion and brother my King. Always has been. And now I know why he turned up to help during the most difficult and unexpected of times. Now I know the real reason why he went to Gundabad that day.”

He turned to look at Thranduil at this point, his eyes seeking understanding and acknowledgement for he knew that it would be difficult for the King to accept what he had to say next.

“His sensitive nature towards magic saved Queen Valadhiel from eternal sleep that day…and for that I am certain that this Kingdom, as well as all the others in Middle Earth, will always be grateful.”

Sighing, he continued, “Yet, unfortunately, his gift is not always the harbinger of good and pleasant news. He confided in us that at times he is made aware of things which we do not want to know and believe. But hear them we must my friends, look at them with reasoning and act accordingly…”

Bard’s eyes were fixed once again on the King, waiting for a sign which showed, to some degree, that Thranduil was ready to listen. A few seconds passed, where all those present were surrounded by a deafening silence, until the Elvenking’ s features relaxed and he finally uttered one word, “Continue.”

It was Arahad who spoke now. (And, one dare say, much to the bewilderment of the other rangers) “My Lord,” he started, for he was well aware that this point was crucial and it was essential for him to choose his words wisely for Star’s sake. He wanted the King’s wrath to be directed towards the one who deserved it. “My friends pointed out that I might have sounded angry in the council room this morning. I want to reassure you that it was not the subject itself, but the one who was addressing me that made me react thus.”

The King raised an eyebrow, evidently demanding more explanation. Arahad did not know how to break this news. There was no nice way so he continued, albeit in a lower voice.

“Lord Lathron is hiding something, my King. His aura is rotten and evil. I felt this every time I was near him and I am convinced about it as much as I was certain of the feeling that drove me to Gundabad. I do not doubt his loyalty to you, having been your advisor for all these years, yet I’d wage my right hand that it is not transmitted to…others.”

Gandalf intervened at this lull in the conversation. “When I heard all this the first time, it immediately shed some light on the Lord‘s reaction when I came to tell you the news that the Queen was alive. Shock was there, like in everybody else, yet never for one instant did I see him rejoice at the news. Never.

The Queen had returned to the Kingdom, and not some unknown elf! He knew her then. And this got me thinking Thranduil…What had been his relationship with her before she disappeared? What was his reaction when she was thought to be dead, killed by orcs? Where was he when the Kingdom welcomed her back? And finally, where is he now?”

The King never said a word. Each question hitting home like a hammer hitting a nail in a stone wall. His eyes were ablaze and an energy radiated from his body which was so threatening that it made some in the room shake to their core.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start reading this final chapter I would like to take the opportunity to thank from the bottom of my heart all those who liked, commented and left Kudos on this story. I have read and greatly appreciated all your comments and I excuse myself for not answering all of them since I was extremely busy these last few weeks.
> 
> I hope you like the ending, I honestly thought about another couple of possibilities which could have taken place but, following Tolkien and Jackson's line of thought I think that this was probably the best option. But please do tell me what you think, whether you like it or what you would have written differently. I really want to know your point of view. But "I must not tarry a moment longer", as our good old Gandalf would say, here it is, read it slowly and enjoy xoxo

“The Wood Elves, more dangerous, and less wise, for they never went to the West. They rarely leave their forests, and love starlight best.”  
J.R.R. Tolkien

 

CHAPTER 22

 

Valadhiel herself was taken by surprise at how quickly she recovered after the bracelet had been removed from her wrist. No longer under its influence, she felt her strength and free will surge through her along with an immense energy instilled by her magical powers. Still dormant, yet lying there, just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to erupt and consume anything that sparked her anger.

Back on her feet she looked at Tauriel with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. At a loss for words in front of this elleth who had saved her life, she embraced Tauriel, forever indebted to her for her courage and loyalty. Tauriel was taken by surprise at first, not used to this most uncommon show of affection among the higher ranks of the Elven Kingdom; yet she welcomed it warmly and gratefully, as an elleth still greatly in need of love and friendship would.

“How did you know that I was in danger?” the Queen asked, moving a step backward.

“I heard you,” was Tauriel’s simple answer. “I felt you calling for help from deep within my mind. I stopped to hide when I saw you talking to Lord Lathron. At first, I thought that he too had come to answer your distressed call.”

With the mention of his name Valadhiel’s eyes darkened. “That vile creature wanted to kill me Tauriel, and it was not the first time that he had tried to do so! But fate thought it wise to thwart his foul plans…twice, leaving it up to me to stop his sick and twisted deeds once and for all.”

“But why? Why would he want to harm you?” questioned Tauriel, who still found it difficult to grasp the advisor’s senseless behaviour after all she had witnessed.

“From what I understood during our brief but enlightening conversation, I believe that the first reason is his obsession with the King. It seems that when I first got to know Thranduil, and later on married him, he saw me no more than as an invasive intruder, taking his place as advisor and, by helping other races, putting the Realm and the King himself in danger.”

“That certainly explains his dislike for me as well!” put in Tauriel, noticing Valdhiel’s lips curling into a grin, “And what, if I may ask, would the second reason be?”

“That,” replied the Queen, “is what I deem to be the essence of all evil my dear friend …power! With me out of the way, Lathron could once again exert his influence on a King who had been through so much pain that it was easier for him to shut himself and the rest of his beloved Kingdom from the perils of the outside world. A feat which, although understandable to overcome a terrible loss for a short time, is in the long run impossible to maintain. We have to do everything within our power to stop evil from spreading, beginning from our own home if so we must!”

Tauriel’s eyes glistened and her heart leapt with pride and joy at hearing Valadhiel uttering those words. There, standing in front of her, was a Queen she was ready to follow up to the gates of Mordor!

“But we must not tarry a moment longer,” she exclaimed, looking up towards the star-studded sky. “Night will soon claim the last light of day and I do not wish to be caught in its darkness.” Then continued, turning back to face the red haired elleth, “Lead the way Tauriel, I cannot wait to see our friend’ s ugly face distort in anger when he sees me…come back from among the dead once again. Only this time things are going to be much different!”

Tauriel smiled grimly before running off into the forest with Valadhiel following closely at her heels. She moved fast, along a familiar path which was parallel to the river bank. At times it diverted abruptly back towards the forest but Tauriel, having walked along these paths innumerable times before, quickly took them back to the main track.

Valadhiel was following in silence, thinking about how she would react when she comes face to face with Lathron, while at the same time trying to keep her ever increasing headache at bay. She felt relieved though, for by now she was aware that this was a side effect of regaining her memory. Images and short episodes in her life started flooding back and she welcomed them with open arms for she knew that they were just the prologue to her full life story. 

These were the thoughts going through her mind when she suddenly stopped. Tauriel had halted as well. Both of them had heard something and, unsure whether it was friend or foe, they stood still, transfixed, listening attentively in the calm night.

Nothing. They must have been heard as well. A moment later they heard the stern, authoritative voice of General Drauchir, “Who is there? Identify yourself!”

“It is Tauriel, my Lord! And I am not alone.” Barely had she uttered these words then they became aware of dark silhouettes coming out of the dense forest and surrounding them.

“Where have you been Tauriel?” demanded the General, closing the distance between them. As if in answer to his question, the rays of the moon found their way through the clouds to enlighten the faces of both elleths, revealing Tauriel and Queen Valadhiel to the astonished General. Lost for words, he bent his head, putting a hand to his heart as a sign of respect.

A soft whisper, barely audible, went round the rest of the soldiers who did the same, standing in awe before their Queen, some of them for the first time in their life. It was a beautiful and magical scene to behold under the silvery rays of the full moon.

“My Queen!” General Drauchir finally said, voice straining under the weight of the emotions that were building up inside of him, at long last looking up, unable to remove the sorrowful image of the last time he had seen her. Guilt feelings resurfacing, he was almost going to cast down his eyes again when he was stopped short by her voice.

“My Lord Drauchir!” she said, voice full of emotion, “Most loyal and trusted friend!” And with these words she moved forward and held his hand in hers. “I remember your loyalty and courage on that fateful day. It is thanks to you that my son lives! For that, I shall be forever in your debt.”

The General stood rooted to the spot, eyes filled with emotion looking at hers, ears barely believing what he had just heard. She remembered! Finally finding his voice, he managed to repeat what he had said so far, “My Queen,” before adding, “It is and will always be my greatest honour to serve you and our King!”

These words, spoken with such heartfelt sincerity, sounded strikingly in contrast to those spoken in venom by Lathron earlier that day. Getting back to the urgency of the task at hand, Valadhiel summoned Tauriel nearer as she filled in the General with the details of what had happened to her during the time she went missing.

Lord Drauchir did not speak a word. He stood transfixed as the Queen told her story, only the flaming anger in his eyes betraying his inner feelings.

“I need your help my Lord, to clear my Kingdom from this corrupted creature!”

“Rest assured, my Lady, that you shall be avenged!” he reassured her, his jaw set in sheer determination. And with those words they hurriedly continued on their way back towards the Palace.  
**********************************************************************************************************************************************

“What ails you my Lord? You look pale…” remarked the King in a steely tone that echoed around the Throne Room and throughout the castle. For one must know that this was no ordinary chamber we are talking about. Set in the centre of the castle, this vast hall had no walls that could supress the conversations that went on. Seemingly flying walkways and intricate staircases led to this place which could also be described as a floating platform that made it possible for every elf inside the castle walls to overhear what was going on at any given moment, especially during important interlocutions which the King wished to share with his subjects. And Thranduil had no doubt that there were many an interested elf ear turned up towards the throne room right at this moment.

He was sitting on his throne, overlooking those present, cold and calculating, not one movement betraying his true emotions. Not a single gesture out of place. At first, what Bard, Arahad and Gandalf had said back in the council room, had filled him with rage, his ears listening in disbelief at those accusations blurted out against one of his most trusted advisors, yet the sincerity with which they spoke and the look in their eyes instilled a seed of doubt within him that was ultimately impossible to shake off.

He grabbed the hand rests of his throne tighter and pierced Lord Lathron’s gaze with his icy glare. Gandalf’s previous questions had provoked his thoughts so much that he was finally ready to see and accept Lathron’s animosity towards Valadhiel. Yet he still could not believe that feelings of hostility from a high ranking Sindar elf could lead to tangible actions of violence against the Queen herself. It was not only inconceivable, but there was nothing …no proof of any crime or misdeed whatsoever from his part!

Thus, much to his irritation, the King felt at a dead end. He could not simply accuse one of the most influential elves in the Kingdom of treason or worse without any scrap of evidence. He had hoped to see him buckle and admit to his wrongdoings, but this never happened. On the contrary, it seemed that the advisor had perceived that they had nothing, so as time ticked slowly by, he plucked up more courage and Thranduil’s keen eyes noticed in annoyance, that his breathing became slower and steadier.

True, this was exactly how Lathron was feeling right now. No sooner had he stepped back inside his chambers, than he was summoned in the presence of the King by two guards who did not leave his side all the way to the throne room. The looks on the elves’ faces in the corridors on their way there, added to the shock and increasing sense of foreboding. This quickly turned to sheer terror once he was in the presence of the King, surrounded by the Prince and none other than that wretched wizard and those disgusting lowly inhabitants of Dale. By Eru! Had he found out what he had done? Blood drained from his face as the King questioned him on his whereabouts these last couple of hours until it dawned on him that he knew nothing for certain. For if he had, he was sure that by now he would have been thrown in the dungeons and treated much worse than this!

He shuddered as these thoughts crossed his mind, but he put them aside as a feeling of hope took over until he finally gathered enough courage to speak. “My King, I am most distressed to hear that the Queen is nowhere to be found. As I have already told you, I have been reading and meditating in the forest since our meeting this morning and I haven’t heard anything all day long. In fact, I had no idea that she had gone missing at all. As for my countenance, I haven’t had time to eat or drink anything yet, so deeply immersed in my thoughts as I was.”

Arahad stood there, a few paces away, listening incredulously to the amount of lies that this scum was conjuring. By now, he was more than certain that he had something to do with Valadhiel’s disappearance. At first he was sure that the advisor would give in under the pressure and make a false move. Who wouldn’t? Standing there in front of the Elvenking sitting on his throne…a throne which in itself sealed the immense position of power held by the King of this Realm. Just being in his presence would send shivers down anybody’s spine, knowing you are completely at his mercy!

Lord Lathron’s words rolled off his tongue like honey, filling Arahad with loathing and anger. The others could not perceive it, but for him the air felt stale of this being’s treachery and deceit. He could not stand it a moment longer, especially now that he felt everyone was helpless and fearing that the King would let him go unpunished. He glanced sideways at Bard, whose look implored him not to do anything foolish. Gandalf too had not uttered a word and Legolas’ expression was practically impenetrable, like his father’s. This left him no choice. He had to do something and that included putting his life in danger if it meant saving Valadhiel. His hand was already moving towards the hilt of his sword when they heard running footsteps heading towards the throne room.

Legolas turned round and was surprised to see Tauriel coming purposefully towards them. What had she been doing? He had looked for her that afternoon but the events of today had put his mind on other, more urgent matters. Where had she been to? And what was she doing now? Her eyes met his for a split of a second, yet it was enough for him to understand that he had to prepare himself for something. He did not know what, but he had known her for far too long now not to notice these signals. His face remained impassive as he watched attentively what she was about to do.

Stopping at an arm’s length from Lord Lathron, she looked up at the King. “My Lord Thranduil,” she said, voice unwavering, “Pardon me for this interruption, but I need to give something to Lord Lathron.” Thranduil was surprised but he did not show it. Tauriel must have more than a valid reason for this. Nodding his head he indicated to her that she should proceed, while at the same time he focused on the advisor’s reaction.

Tauriel turned to face Lathron, whose expression showed both bewilderment and annoyance. She stretched out her arm and opened her closed fist. The utter shock and bulging eyes as he stared in disbelief at the golden serpent bracelet was evident to everybody present. Losing all self-control, he took a step backward. “No! No! It can’t be!” he repeated, shaking his head.

“What is the meaning of this?” The King demanded harshly as he stood up and started coming down the stairs from his throne. What was Lathron hiding? Why is he reacting like this? What…? But his silent questions were halted by her voice.

“Yes Lathron…why don’t you explain to your King what has been going on?” Her voice was strong, firm, commanding and loud enough to echo throughout. Valadhiel climbed the stairs leading to the platform slowly, elegantly, like the Queen that she was, followed a few steps behind by Lord Drauchir. Her eyes were ablaze with the rage and energy she felt building up inside her at that moment. And she could also feel, probably set off by these myriad of emotions, the dark shroud that had enveloped her mind, finally starting to lift, showing her in one breathtaking instant all the precious memories which she loved and cherished.

Her heart skipped a beat as an indescribable feeling of pure love swept through her body as the bond with her husband was finally restored. Looking at Thranduil as if for the first time since she had woken up, her heart was overwhelmed with soaring joy and she knew from his expression that he could feel it too.

“Wait! You don’t understand!” screeched Lathron, as under General Drauchir’s orders the soldiers moved to close in on him. His voice brought her back to the present situation. Disgust and anger took hold of her once again as she strode towards him and, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, she literally dragged him and threw him at the King’s feet.

Like the stone columns surrounding the open space, the Elvenking, tall and regal, standing a couple of steps up, looked also as if he had been made of the same substance if it were not for the energy he radiated. Glaring at Lathron, lying in a heap on the floor, he moved another step down.

The traitor, unable to hold his King’s terrible stare, raised his hands in front of his face and turned round to look at the Queen, who he still blamed in his distorted mind, for his present situation.

“Go on!” she urged, “Tell him how you let innocent people die by hiding the letters sent asking for our help!” Her eyes mirrored her fury as she continued, her voice a pitch higher, “…about how angry you were that I had taken your place…tell him how you sent his wife and his son to face certain death when you knew that the paths in the North were swarming with orcs…and finally tell him how you cursed me and threw me into the river today!”

With one sudden movement, she bent forward and grabbed his chin, forcing him to face the King. Pointing at Thranduil, she continued relentlessly, “Look at him in the eyes and tell him that, for you will have to answer to him. Let us see if he understands!”

Her tone had slowed down at the end, her voice dropping dangerously low yet still heard clearly in surroundings where one could hear a pin drop. All the Realm seemed to be holding its breath as it waited… Releasing Lathron’s face, Valadhiel slowly stood up once again, taking a step backward as she was possessed by a surreal calmness.

“Stand up!” ordered the King between clenched teeth, towering over him. His features giving way to an untamed force which was terrible to behold. All stood silent, secretly relieved that they are not the cause that had unleashed his terrible wrath.

Spirit broken, afraid of what was to come, Lathron stood painfully up. Time seemed to stop until the King finally spoke, “I am fighting against the almost overwhelming urge I have to strangle you with my own bare hands right here and now; for it would be too easy, ending your life here or in my dungeons, no suffering entailed…That is why I condemn you to be banished from this Kingdom! All titles and possessions shall be stripped from you and word shall be sent to the other Elven Realms of your terrible crimes and actions. You shall be eternally shunned, forever held in disdain by your own kin. Leave now, never to set foot here again. Let the outside world deal with you, for you are our concern no more! You are sentenced to roam aimlessly around Middle-earth for the rest of your pathetic life and that, as you well know, is a long time!”

Lathron was in a state of shock, unable to form a complete sentence, his mumblings incoherent and making no sense. Yet no one pitied his predicament. What he had done was worth of the most severe of punishments and for an elf, this was it! Shunned and banished from the Elven Kingdoms was a sentence far worse than death.

“Please my Lord, I beg you!” he pleaded. But his words were met with an ice cold look.

“You beg?!!” All eyes turned to Legolas who was looking at Lathron with eyes full of disdain and loathing. “How dare you? You have no right to beg!” Fists clenched he took a step forward but his movements were stopped by the King’s raised hand. “Stop Legolas, do not soil your hands with this filth! Drauchir, get him out of my sight!” The General signalled to the guards, who half carried the traitor out, almost delirious in his insane ravings.

No sooner was he taken away, than they were in each other’s arms. Tears flowed freely down Valadhiel’s cheeks as Thranduil held her up and laughed loudly in sheer happiness and utter bliss. Few had heard that sound of joy before. Legolas was amazed and he was not the only one. Those who were lucky enough to witness this scene could not be unmoved by it! He looked at her with eyes full of love and adoration, same feelings reflected in hers while she cupped his face in her hands and finally kissed him. One sweet loving kiss after so many years apart!

He slowly put her down yet unyielding his hold on her. He was not ready yet. Not until she turned round and whispered, “Legolas!” Eyes blurred, arms outstretched, she was holding her son once again after an eternity! It was here that she felt cheated. Remembering Legolas as an infant and seeing him now all grown up, she could not help but feel sorry for all those moments she had missed throughout the years. But she did not want to ponder on the past. She could not. She was embracing her family and this is what she wanted to think about now, thanking the Valar for giving her a second chance.

 

Looking at this emotional scene which filled the hearts of everyone in the room and beyond with contentment and immeasurable happiness, Bard put a hand on Arahad’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?” he asked his friend.

Arahad’s face broke into a wide smile. “Strangely happy,” was the ranger’s answer. “The Queen has returned to the Kingdom of Mirkwood. Now everything is as it should be!”

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters of Gandalf, Bard, Legolas, Thranduil, Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, Dain, Balin and the fantastic world of Middle Earth belong solely to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and his estate.
> 
> Tauriel belongs to Peter Jackson.
> 
> Drauchir belongs to a friend. 
> 
> Valadhiel, Arahad, Hamar, Tor, Odell, Ceorl, Lathron, Faeron, Tuarwen, Meldarion and the She Orc, along with the story in itself, are original and belong to me.
> 
> Also, in order to make this flowing and a story that continues from the last Hobbit movie (The Battle Of The Five Armies), I borrowed a few phrases from the film and book. This work was not written for money, my aim was simply to entertain and give a pleasing ending to where the movies and the book left off, trying to stay true to the characters as much as possible. I honestly hope I have achieved this.
> 
> Sincere thanks go to all those who supported me in this venture :), who reviewed, encouraged, left kudos and followed my story.
> 
> And please, before you leave, I ask you to listen to the following song,
> 
> watch?v=Xk-Sauafa6Y (Star Sky by Two Steps From Hell)


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